


Shadows

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Some angst, Swords & Sorcery, fluri in the form of mutual pining, fusion with Shamanic Princess, warning: this fic is incomplete, with some aesthetics borrowed from Munto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-06-25 14:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: Spring arrived with shocking suddenness. One day the city had been clutched in winter's grip, blanketed with thick, gray clouds that wept a drizzle of clinging cold. The next day, it was as if the birds had chased the clouds away with their songs, and every flowering tree in the city seemed to be in bloom. Coming back from an overnight shift at a convenience store, Yuri paused outside his apartment. He took off the baseball cap that he always wore pulled low over his face whenever the sky wasn't overcast, and peered up into that vast blue. The other world was waiting for him there.[roughly 10 chapters, incomplete]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so...before I stopped writing Fluri stuff, I had a couple projects in the works that I had put a lot into & was actually pretty proud of what I had. This one in particular has a lot more going on than just Flynn and Yuri getting together. After talking to some friends (thank you hoskky and bad0mens!!), I figured I'd go ahead and post what I have--which should come out to 10 chapters or so. I've had a lot of luck in the Mo Dao Zu Shi fandom completing stories as I post, so maybe this will inspire me to finish this one. =) We'll see.
> 
> once more:  
> WARNING: THIS FIC IS CURRENTLY INCOMPLETE  
> If you don't like reading unfinished stories, click the back button, because I can't make any promises about finishing.

Spring arrived with shocking suddenness. One day the city had been clutched in winter's grip, blanketed with thick, gray clouds that wept a drizzle of clinging cold. The next day, it was as if the birds had chased the clouds away with their songs, and every flowering tree in the city seemed to be in bloom. Coming back from an overnight shift at a convenience store, Yuri paused outside his apartment. He took off the baseball cap that he always wore pulled low over his face whenever the sky wasn't overcast, and peered up into that vast blue. The other world was waiting for him there.

There were shapes in the sky high over the city, and they weren't anything so commonplace as clouds or birds or planes. Inverted mountains hovered in the air, some isolated, some linked by stone bridges that may as well have been made of spun sugar for all their deceptive delicacy compared to the behemoths they spanned. They filled the sky, some so far off that they grew indistinct with distance, others close enough that Yuri could pick out buildings clinging to their sides like sparrows' nests. From their forested tops rose the arches and spires of palaces. Waterfalls were silver ribbons over the edges of some, though Yuri was certain that there used to be many more. The dark green of forests no longer overhung the edges, and some of the palaces had begun to crumble. High above him as they were, Yuri couldn't spot anything moving.

There came a noise as faint as the memory of sound that drew Yuri's attention directly upward. One of the islands hung far above his apartment complex, and a chunk of it as big as Yuri's living room had just broken off the side and was plummeting earthward.

He flinched instinctively, though he knew better. The other world didn't touch this one. It only existed for him when he looked up at it...or when the memories wouldn't leave him alone. Even as he looked back up, the boulder that had fallen loose was vanishing into thin air. As he watched, he thought for a moment that he saw something flicker amid the rubble. A bird, maybe, but it had seemed too large.... He stepped forward out of the shadow of the breezeway, gaze still locked on the sky. Hard as he searched, however, all remained still except for the fading chunks of dead, falling rock. When he finally looked down, a man stood right in front of him, though Yuri had been alone a second ago.

The man gave off an aura as otherworldly as the floating mountain city. He wore scored and dented armor as pale as moonlight on sea foam, and a cornflower tunic that had seen better days. His flyaway blond hair was a mess, and his skin was smudged with blood and something dark that Yuri knew wasn't simply dirt or ash. His eyes were weary and very blue. As he reached out a hand, Yuri could see that the parking lot was dimly visible right through him.

“We need your help.”

It was as much plea as statement, softly spoken and much, much harder to ignore than it should have been. Shaking his head, Yuri took a step back. He didn't need this, couldn't deal with it. He was turning away when the man called his name.

“Yuri! ...Please.”

In his hurry to get inside, he nearly dropped his key before slotting it into the lock. He was almost quick enough to shut the door before he heard, quiet and miserable: “I'm sorry.”

* * *

Dreams came easily to Yuri. A consequence of his past, he suspected. After his encounter that morning, he had fallen into bed, trying to hide in sleep. He had forgotten about the dreams, though. They found him almost immediately, a tangle of memories and shadows that sucked him down.

He was a child, slight and fearless, in a world that was nothing more to him than a series of adventures awaiting his attention. In his dream, he was in the field, the one of red flowers on a rocky plain. It would be a desolate place in winter, nothing but desiccated stems only a shade browner than the gray, rocky soil they sprouted from. In the height of summer, however, it was a brilliant, vibrant red. The flowers grew impossibly thick upon the earth, their heavy heads bobbing in the breeze. The wind could grow fierce on the plain, whipping through the flowers and tearing loose petals to scatter them up to the sky. Yuri raced across the field, laughing as the wind tried to lift him off his feet. The other children, mostly girls picking flowers for the festival, ignored him. One waved as he ran past, and he called out her name only for the sound of it to be lost in a sudden gust.

Yuri left them all behind. He was outpaced only by the wind and the petals it had snatched up to play with. The ground was a red blur beneath him. His feet pounded over the dry earth, flowers tickled against his calves. He almost didn't spot the pool in time.

Dirt crunched beneath Yuri's feet as he came to a hasty stop. He wavered, swaying just like the flowers as the wind buffeted him from behind, trying to topple him into the water. Somehow, Yuri found his balance.

The pool was small. He probably could have cleared it in a jump if he'd been prepared. It was eerily still, however, and not a single petal floated on its surface, despite the fact that the flowers crowded right up to the edge in a thick, red carpet. It was a blue so deep and pure that it looked as if it had stolen the soul of the color straight out of the sky.

_Yuri!_

He looked back at the sound of his name and smiled to see his best friend hurrying to catch up. His blond hair was bright beneath the glaring sun, and his eyes were the same perfect blue as the pool, and shining with a shared love of adventure. He stopped just at the edge, grinning and out of breath.

_Yuri!_

Yuri saw his name formed by his friend's lips, heard it in those childish tones, but there had been another voice that spoke it at the same time. An older voice, stripped of the simple excitement of childhood. Yuri looked down into the pool.

His friend was reflected there, the only face in the still pool, but he was grown and battered. His eyes were cold and focused on Yuri's. They drew him in, even as he leaned back.

_Yuri._

He couldn't hear the voice from his childhood anymore. The wind whipped his long hair in front of his face, obscuring his vision. When he could see again, the boy his friend had been was gone. Yuri was alone on the plain.

_Come here._

The man in the reflection held out his hand. His face was calm, unsmiling. Yuri took a step back.

_I need your help. Come here, Yuri._

The cuff around Yuri's left wrist responded to the command. It leapt forward, yanking him along towards the pool. Yuri dug in his heels and strained to pull his arm back, all to no avail. The magic in the cuff was stronger than him. He could fight it and slow it down, but he couldn't win.

_Come here!_

Yuri bit back a yelp as the metal heated up, burning around his wrist. It would brand him. It would break him. He struggled to stand straight even as the cuff pulled him closer to the surface of the pool. Desperate, he met the grown up eyes of his childhood friend, searching for even the tiniest sign of empathy.

_I'm sorry._

His expression gave nothing away as the cuff pulled Yuri off balance and into the pool.

* * *

The sensation of being watched was enough to wake him from his sleep. Yuri opened his eyes to warm sunlight fighting a losing battle against the shadows of his unlit apartment. Outside, sunset had burnished the city. Light spilled in through his blinds like sheets of gold. It gathered in heavy shafts, herded back by the oncoming twilight and the darkness that crept from the deepest corners of the small rooms Yuri called home. Something glinted in the shadows at the foot of his bed, a tiny, golden sun, ringed with eight smaller golden discs rather than haloed by rays. The crest was new, but Yuri had noticed it earlier that day, and the day before that when the man had first appeared to him. Sitting up, he propped an arm on one drawn-up knee and stared at the not-quite-stranger who had invaded his home.

“You're supposed to knock before entering.”

“This is only a magical sending, a projection. I have no physical presence here. I can't—”

“I _know_ that.” Yuri turned his face away, glowering out into the room at large. “You're still slow on the uptake.”

“And you're still quick to try and start a fight. I don't have the energy to get into a verbal sparring match with you, Yuri. I came to ask for your help.”

Yuri snorted. “ _Ask_ for it? You've learned a new trick.”

He bowed his head. “I can't do anything more than apologize to you. If I thought it would help, I would kneel and beg your forgiveness—”

“Your sincerity is astonishing.”

“Yuri—”

“You want me to come back so bad, Flynn?” Finally, arms spread wide in challenge, he looked up to meet that summer sky stare with one of steel. “ _Make_ me.”

Flynn hesitated, and Yuri felt a sick sense of vindication. Beneath his bravado, his heart was hammering fearfully in his chest. Both of them knew that Flynn could do it.

“I don't want to do that to you,” Flynn said finally.

“But you will, if I don't jump when you say.” He let his arms fall heavily back to the sheets. “Break the contract,” he muttered, staring at the dull shine of the heavy, golden cuff around his left wrist. “Get yourself a new pet.” _Let me stop seeing your world in my sky_.

“You aren't a _pet_ —” He didn't flinch at Yuri's derisive laugh. “—and you know the contract between us can't be broken. I'd do it if I could.”

“Sure.” He had spoken those last words so softly, though, that Yuri didn't actually disbelieve him. It was hard to be rid of the bitterness of that broken trust, however.

“I would.” He insisted, then paused. “Maybe. I don't know.” Flynn rubbed a phantom hand over his phantom face. “What you said a moment ago—about how I'd make you come back if I can't convince you.... You aren't wrong. Please believe me when I tell you that I don't want to compel you to return. However...I can't weigh my entire world against your free will and see you served justly.”

“Still haven't learned to lie when it suits you, either. You could have just promised not to and maybe earned yourself some brownie points.”

“Would you really have trusted me?”

Yuri didn't even have to consider that. “No.”

“Please, Yuri. At least hear me out. The Guardian World is being bled dry. It's been years since anyone but shadows have been able to cross the barrier into other worlds. The magic is being used up, and the shadows glut themselves on what does flow through. They flee back across the barrier when we pursue them, and we can't follow. Something _has_ to be done!”

“And what am _I_ supposed to do?” He glared across the deepening shadows. “If none of you can get through the barrier, why should I be any different?”

“Because...you were the last one to cross over.”

Yuri almost smiled at that. In Terca Lumireis—the so-called Guardian World—he'd been nothing but Flynn's summoned 'partner'—a misleading term if ever he'd heard one. His was a support role, a fighter that could only really stand up to shadow beasts when pumped full of borrowed magical power. As a human, he wasn't able to cast spells, but he'd managed to get himself sent home by jumping into a gate someone else had opened. Not that it had really been home anymore, not after a decade spent in Terca Lumireis. Being seventeen and back in the world he'd been born into with no identity and no place to live hadn't been a picnic. It had been better than the alternative, though, and Yuri had made do. He'd managed to carve out a normal life for himself despite the fact that he could see Terca Lumireis hanging in the sky whenever there weren't clouds to hide it. After four years, he'd figured that no one was going to come track him down. Leave it to Flynn to prove him wrong.

“I think sealing off your 'Guardian' World would be a bit beyond my skills.”

“Just like casting the spell to return was?”

Yuri glanced up at him briefly, then dropped his gaze back to the cuff around his left wrist, lying in his lap. “Who said I cast it?”

His memories of that night were confused after a point. The fight they'd had was still clear enough, chillingly so, but afterward.... He remembered power, more power than he'd dreamed possible, enough to drown him, enough to unmake him, and he remembered the sensation of Flynn's magic heating the cuff, scorching already damaged skin, and then...and then....

“Then who—”

“I can't remember,” he snapped. He'd slapped a hand over the cuff, not wanting to see it anymore, not wanting to recall the branding iron pain of it, but helpless against the phantom tingles across his skin. What made it worse was that he could feel the bond between them stirring to life again after years of lying dormant. He wondered if it was still weak enough to let him disobey a direct command.

The moonlight glow of Flynn's sending entered the edge of Yuri's vision. He looked up, not meaning to catch Flynn's eyes, but unable to stop himself. Time rewound in an instant, taking him back to an endless summer, to a friendship that he would have bet his life on. Memories surged in him, choked him, left him feeling like he'd taken a punch to the gut. He couldn't hold Flynn's stare.

A ghostly hand reached out but couldn't touch him. The power Flynn held over him wasn't physical.

“Yuri, please come back,” he said softly. “I wouldn't be here asking if it wasn't important.”

“Yeah? Maybe it's more important that you lot learn to clean up your own messes. Maybe it's better that no one can cross over. At least now none of you will be snatching people out of their worlds to fight shadow monsters.”

“That's not—!” He bit back the rest, but Yuri wasn't about to let it go.

“Not _fair_?” He glared at Flynn. “Were all of them like me, then? All alone and dying in a hospital bed? Can you tell me that every single 'partner' dragged into your world was given a better life than what they were forced to leave behind?”

Yuri had never believed that Flynn could actually hate him, but there was enough fury in his incandescent glare to make it seem possible right then. Flynn mastered his temper. Four years ago he wouldn't have been able to. He'd matured in more ways than one since the last time they'd seen each other. Still, the effort not to argue, to yell and fight back, left his arms trembling, fists clenched at his sides. He looked away, and there was something deeper than anger in his expression. Yuri barely had time to fear whatever it might be when Flynn spoke up in quiet, measured tones.

"The shadows killed Niren."

Yuri froze. All the molten anger that had been churning in his stomach turned to ice. “Wha—”

“Lambert, too.” He sounded so calm. Yuri might have hated him for that, if he'd been able to feel anything through the shock. “You were right about them. The Guardian World is supported entirely by magic harvested by the shadows, and they've been feeding off the magic of other worlds for years. Now, without the Throne to replenish the magic, the Guardian World is crumbling. The shadows have turned against us. It's gotten to the point where the magic in the trees and the air and the water isn't enough. They're attacking _people_. And soon, they won't be the only danger to us all. Niren wasn't the first to die, and he won't be the last. You have to—”

"Get out."

"Yuri—!"

"I _said_ get out!” He clenched his fists around his bedsheets to hide their shaking. “I need to think."

Flynn hesitated. When he spoke, the disappointment in his voice cut straight through Yuri. No, the power he held had never been physical.

“Even after hearing that, you still...?”

Yuri hung his head. He knew that Flynn wasn't lying, knew it through their bond, knew it by memories of the earnest boy he'd grown up with. People were dying. Maybe he wouldn't be able to do anything to stop it, but if there was even a chance he could help....

He pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I'm not doing this for you,” he said.

“I know. Thank you.”

“I don't need your thanks, either.” He shifted uncomfortably, fingers tangled in the sheets, feet planted firmly on the floor of his apartment. The reality he'd worked so hard to earn for himself suddenly seemed insubstantial around him, like a long dream he was waking out of. “How are you going to bring me back? If no one can cross—”

“Wait.”

Yuri looked up to see Flynn holding up a hand, palm out toward him. He was looking over his shoulder, though there was nothing Yuri could see. Something in Terca Lumireis had gotten his attention.

“ _What_?” With his shout, Flynn's entire body tensed up. He reached for his sword, then glanced momentarily at Yuri before looking back to whoever it was that had interrupted their conversation. “How soon? ...Damn!” Turning back to Yuri, there was urgency in his expression.

“I'll be back as quickly as I can, Yuri. Don't change your mind.”

“Hey, wait a sec!”

Yuri was up off the bed and reaching out for him, but Flynn didn't hesitate. His sending vanished in a faint shimmer of magic. Evening had settled fully upon the world while they'd been talking, and the room was left in darkness, lit only by the pale, greenish aquarium glow of the streetlights outside the window. Everything felt still, as if the world had been paused around him. He could almost— _almost_ —believe that Flynn, the conversation, the entirety of Terca Lumireis had been nothing but a vivid dream.

Reality restarted with the sound of scratching at his door. It seemed that the past wasn't done with Yuri just yet. Wearily, he went to meet his second visitor of the evening.

Waiting just outside the apartment was a creature that _might_ have been mistaken for a dog if someone was drunk enough not to question their eyes, or simply unwilling to believe what they were seeing. He stood hip high to Yuri, pointed ears perked forward, lightning bolt tail erect and swaying gently in greeting. He had a chain around his neck, a knife sheathed at his side, and he carried a pipe clenched in his jaws. He barely waited for Yuri to step aside and give him room to walk into the apartment.

“Hey, Repede. You find something that shouldn't be here?” Maybe that figment of his imagination from earlier in the day had had a bit of substance to it after all.

Like Yuri, Repede was someone's partner, summoned out of his home dimension to aid a shaman of Terca Lumireis in hunting down stray shadows that had glut themselves on too much magic and turned to spreading misfortune. He had seen one other partner like Repede before, and according to Flynn, Lambert was now dead. Yuri didn't know who had summoned Repede or what had happened to them. All he knew was that the dog was stuck in this world just as effectively as he was, and that, apparently, no one had come looking for him. For all Yuri knew, Repede's partner could be dead.

Repede barked once. Intelligence shone in his one good eye. It seemed like he could understand pretty much anything Yuri had to say to him, and he knew how to make himself understood in turn. Although neither of them could actually cast spells of their own, neither was defenseless against the shadow creatures that could slip freely into the world. Flynn had long ago provided Yuri the means to draw a magical blade out of the cuff that bound him, and the dagger on Repede's side was enchanted to be particularly effective against the shadows. Even without the magic of a shaman, they made an effective team.

Yuri glanced uncertainly back toward his bedroom. Flynn had said he'd be back as soon as he could. Was it all right to just leave after agreeing to go with him?

He realized how stupid that worry was almost as soon as the thought had formed, and he grimaced at the cuff around his wrist. Flynn could find him no matter where he went. Yuri supposed he ought to count himself lucky that he'd been left alone for so long, but he didn't have it in himself to be happy over anything that had happened after that day. He especially didn't want to think about why it had hurt so much that Flynn hadn't even bothered to seek him out until there was no other option. Clamping a hand down over the familiar dips and curves of the cuff that bound him to Flynn's will, Yuri decided that what he needed most at the moment was a good fight.

“Gimmie a minute to get dressed, Repede. I could use a bit of monster hunting right now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll prolly switch to weekly updates, but this chapter has a bit more world building info + some drama.

Shadows were magic gone feral. They formed out of excesses of power building up in an area or from spells gone out of control. They sustained themselves by consuming more magic, sucking it right out of the world with an unquenchable thirst. If magic was too sparse, they consumed life, instead. They brought calamity with them to any world they entered.

At least...that was the story fed to the population of Terca Lumireis by the Council of Elders that ran the whole, corrupt system. In reality, as Yuri had learned the night he had left, shadows were created by the Throne of Lumireis, a magical artifact that sustained Terca Lumireis with its islands that floated int he sky far above the planet's ruined surface. It sent out shadows to steal magic from other worlds so that it could be harvested from them by the shamans tasked with capturing them and bringing them back.

If Terca Lumireis had really been sealed off, then that would explain why partnered teams hadn't been sent out after the roaming shadows. Yuri _had_ wondered why no one had come in the years since he had left, why it had been only him and Repede hunting down any shadows that came into the city. It was one thing to think that Flynn had washed his hands of a partner that had simply become too problematic. It was quite another to imagine that the greedy magic users of his world would have written off the power to be claimed by capturing the shadows.

Repede led them on a twisting dash through the city, following alleyways and side streets to avoid the main roads. While he was capable of going much faster by leaping over obstacles—and sometimes up and over buildings—having Yuri follow slowed him down. Without Flynn around to pump him full of magic, Yuri was only human. Used to be, Flynn's magic could give him a form that was faster, stronger. They'd rarely had to resort to that, but the rush that went along with that power always made for sleepless nights afterward. Most of the time, Yuri could only barely remember what it had been like to be transformed by Flynn's spells into a creature made for hunting shadows. On nights like these, however, he could almost feel the wind buffeting his wings....

The shadow flitted across the mouth of the alley a moment before they reached the end of it. It was as wide as the street, a dark and ghostly amalgamation of pterodactyl and stingray with a bone-white mask and claws and a glowing core of stolen magic. Yuri nearly missed a step, stunned by the size of it. He hadn't seen such a massive shadow since he'd had Flynn to back him up. Repede disappeared around the corner after it. Now that Yuri could follow their target on his own, there was no need to wait around for him. The dog would harry the shadow, until it turned to fight or was too weakened by little attacks to continue running away. Yuri was betting that it would attack. Something that big would be feeling a lot more hunger than fear.

Rounding the corner, Yuri saw that his guess had been right. The shadow and Repede were already caught up in a battle, diving at each other and swooping back around. Repede had the advantage of maneuverability over the shadow that could barely fit between the buildings boxing in the street, but the creature had a much longer reach. Yuri drew his sword from the gem on his cuff as he rushed the shadow, and slashed at the clawed tail that had whipped around far too close to Repede for comfort. The blade, a creation of magic in and of itself, cut cleanly through the shadow's tail, dropping the end of it to the pavement where it flailed wildly and dissolved back into the currents of the world's magic.

The creature turned on him with a soundless roar that rattled windows and caused streetlights to flicker. Yuri slashed at it, ducking and dodging as it dove for him. It moved like a kite twisting in the wind, but there was a vicious intelligence behind the hunger and hurt that drove it toward him. He managed to keep the shadow from taking any chunks out of him, but he wasn't able to land any more hits, either.

Luckily, Repede was an excellent partner. He harried the shadow, slashing at it with his dagger from one side or the other while Yuri focused on its bone mask face. The shadow couldn't target one of them without allowing the other right through its defenses, so it settled for lashing out with tentacles spawned from the dark mass of its body. Those extruded limbs took the brunt of Yuri and Repede's attacks, sacrificed in order to keep their blades from harming either its mask or its core. Pieces of its flesh were hacked off and tossed aside. It was being worn down by increments. The bone mask rotated, settling back into place with a stuttering motion like faulty clockwork. Yuri sensed fury in the movement, and he smiled grimly as he thrust once more, blade turning aside as it struck a newly-sprouted tentacle and cut slowly through.

They were driving the shadow back, herding it toward an alley where it would have less room to maneuver and no room to escape. Over the few years that they'd been partners for this sort of thing, Yuri and Repede had worked out patterns and strategies that rarely failed them. They worked well together, and Yuri could cut loose and fight, trusting that Repede would be right where he needed to be. He could remember when things had been that way with Flynn.

Suddenly, the shadow retracted into itself, cowering behind its empty-eyed mask. Yuri charged forward, sword held high to impale. He heard a warning bark, saw the shadow flesh ripple and then burst as dozens of tentacles shot out in all directions. Yuri didn't waver. He felt the shadow pierce the flesh of his shoulder, latch onto the skin of his forearm, and graze his thigh. He drove his sword into the bone mask, high and off-center, but with enough force to crack it and rip another silent, bass scream from the creature. He could feel the tentacles siphoning off what little magic he had, lamprey mouths draining him to replenish what it had lost. Gritting his teeth, he ignored them. His wounds would heal in time, but the shadow could not be allowed to escape. It thrashed at the end of his sword, trapped and desperate.

Yuri lurched forward, ignoring the tentacles pushing against his flesh. The cracks in the mask grew, spreading out from around his sword. Chips broke off, dissolving away before they hit the pavement. The shadow brought all of its tentacles to bear on Yuri, trying to force him back. It attacked madly, but Repede was quicker, jumping in between Yuri and the assault and slashing at the tentacles, cutting them short or turning them away. Eerie and soundless, the shadow howled, either in rage or fear or even pain if it could feel such a thing. Whatever the cause, that opening was all Repede needed. With the attack against Yuri faltering, Repede dashed in low beneath the shadow, knife angled up to tear into its flesh. The tip of the blade caught against the core and pierced it. At the same time, Yuri drove his sword all the way through the mask and sliced it open from forehead to cheek. The shadow shuddered, convulsed, and then swelled up with its stolen magic until the pressure was greater than its dying form could hold. It exploded as soundlessly as it had fought and screamed.

To Yuri's senses, the magic of this world felt like a faint drizzle. Ordinarily, he was able to dampen his awareness of it in order to avoid being distracted by the constant sensation of being rained on. During the battle, however, he had opened himself up and now felt as if he stood in the middle of a deluge. The shadow had been feeding off the world's magic for some time, storing it up like a bloated tick. Now, all that magic rained back down to be reabsorbed into the cycle that refreshed the planet. Like a breath of wind through the downpour, the stasis field that Repede had cast to keep their battle hidden from the mundane world collapsed.

“Guess that's that,” Yuri muttered. He checked briefly over his injuries as Repede trotted over and sat down at his feet. His right forearm where the shadow had landed a tentacle bore a circle of silvery skin like an old scar. It was magic burn, a result of having raw power ripped out of him rather than channeled by his will. It would heal over the next few days, but if he had been an actual shaman like Flynn, the burn would have interfered with any of the larger spells, the ones that wrote themselves across the body of the caster. Magic burn created voids that weakened the power of spells or blocked part of the invocation. Casting while injured like that was to risk one's own destruction by way of an uncontrolled spell.

He'd taken hits to his thigh and shoulder, glancing blows that had torn his skin and left blood seeping into his clothes. A trickling down his cheek turned out to be from another wound. He touched the cut gingerly, then stared at his bloody fingertips, unable to remember when the shadow had managed to land that blow.

Although he'd been defeating stray shadows for years, it seemed like they had been getting tougher and tougher since he'd come home. Was it another indicator that Flynn had been telling the truth? This one had certainly been hoarding far more magic than Yuri would have expected from something that had only been dining local. He'd taken more injuries this time than the last, and that also seemed to be a continuing trend, now that he thought about it. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the shadows had been getting stronger. He had been able to fight and win alone when he had first come back. Now, and with this fight in particular, the outcome might have been very different had he not had Repede watching his back. He scratched appreciatively behind the dog's ears.

“Thanks, pal.”

Repede woofed in acknowledgment and grinned a doggy grin. Then, in an instant, his demeanor changed. He stood up, tail erect and ears perked, nose pointing at something in the distance that Yuri couldn't see. The air pressure around them fluctuated as the no-sound of a shadow's roar lapped against them like waves on the side of a boat. Several blocks away, Yuri caught a glimpse of something dark rising up against the light pollution of the night sky. Behind it, separated by more than physical distance, islands that no one else could see floated past the gibbous moon.

“Another one?”

Yuri had never seen more than one shadow in a week. They were territorial, as liable to feast on each other as the magic in the area they laid claim to. As he threw off his surprise, the shadow roared again, and was joined by another voice. Three in one night. Something was badly wrong.

“Yuri!” Flynn's voice sounded from behind him, and Yuri spun to see his sending glowing like pale neon in the middle of the street. He held his sword at the ready in one hand. “It's about time you broke stasis! I've been trying to punch through—!” He looked around, though there was nothing that Yuri could see. Something was happening in Terca Lumireis, however. Flynn swept his sword in an arc, spells flashing off the end of the blade and causing his image to waver. “Hold them back!” Flynn shouted. “I only need enough time to bring him through!”

“Flynn—”

Repede barked a warning and Yuri spun. The shadow he'd seen earlier was little more than a block away already, and coming straight for him. It skimmed the ground, tilting from side to side to avoid losing any momentum by colliding with parked cars. Yuri raised his sword and charged it, barely hearing Flynn shouting his name and a frustrated swear. Just as he closed with the monster, the magic around him changed.

A wave of force like nothing he had ever felt lifted Yuri off his feet and flung him end over end down the street until he crashed into a bus stop. The shadow was blown back like an empty shopping bag until it somehow found purchase. Buffeted by winds stronger than any normal air current could manage, the shadow drew itself up and let loose a cry. It swelled, absorbing the magic that had knocked it and Yuri back two full blocks. Again and again it cried, and Yuri realized suddenly that it was calling its brethren to feast.

Yuri couldn't move. It wasn't simply the force sweeping over him, that kept him crouched low against the wall of the bus stop. Dread filled him, the certainty that Flynn was stronger and that he had returned to drag Yuri home, that he could make use of the bond between them to impose his will and steal Yuri's freedom. There was no fighting back against him. No way to win, trapped forever, follow the leader, obey Flynn, follow in his footsteps, in his shadow, an extension of his will, a weapon. The dread was all-consuming, feasting upon the rage and betrayal that came with it like a shadow glutting itself on magic.

How dare he! _How dare he! HOW DARE HE!_ How could he do it? How could he have turned on Yuri like that? What of their friendship? What of the bond they'd formed that had nothing to do with magic? Had it meant _nothing_ to him? All of it? How could he? How _dare_ he!

Yuri was seventeen again, hurt and betrayed, powerless and with no way to defend himself. The fear he'd felt back in his apartment when he'd dared Flynn to impose his will was nothing to this. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to get away from Flynn and his _Guardian_ World, to tear apart the gateway spell Flynn had activated and lock him and all his thieving, kidnapping society away for good. Let the shadows devour their sins!

_The shadows killed Niren._

Yuri opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd closed them, hadn't realized that his hands were pressed over his ears, useless wards against commands that weren't coming.

Niren hadn't deserved to die. He'd been just as sickened by the truth. He would have fought with Yuri, would have wanted to make things right!

And Flynn....

Flynn was the source of the magical explosion. He stood in the center of an archway of power that flashed with opposing energies. Yuri had never seen a barrier between worlds that seethed with such chaos. It was as if the energies of his world and Terca Lumireis were inimical to each other, unable to stand being brought into direct contact.

Shadows were slowly gathering around the gate, fighting against the force that repelled them even as they feasted and pressed forward. They shimmered as they straddled the dimensions, and used that ability to strike out at Flynn and retreat to the safety of Yuri's world. He couldn't get to them there, but they could still reach through and hurt him. They were coming from both worlds, closing around him in a tightening circle as more of their number arrived. Flynn had a space around him clear for the reach of his sword, but it wasn't going to last. He shouted above the howling wind.

“Yuri! I can't hold the gate forever—I've got nothing left! _Hurry_!”

The command wasn't backed by magic, but Yuri still felt a shudder of aversion sweep through him. The last time he'd heard Flynn shout like that....

Memories rushed over him, a tangle of events that had happened years ago suddenly blindsiding him as if no time had passed at all. He remembered the furious shouting, the undeniable need to lash out at a target for his anger. He remembered the fight, smack of fist against flesh, the sick sensation of being winded by a kick to the gut, the taste of blood in his mouth. Heat. Pain. Boiling rage that kept his fists flying when he should have known it wouldn't do any good. He remembered the unbreakable grip of command, the shock and then the pain as he tried to fight it, the impact of Flynn's fist against his jaw. Pain, pain, _pain,_ and he couldn't move, couldn't do _anything_. Words he could barely hear, didn't want to listen to. His wrist was burning, burning beneath the cuff, beneath the symbol of Flynn's total authority, burning and blistering and oozing and didn't he know didn't he _care_ how _dare he_! Ice blue eyes, furious, burning cold, and Flynn's voice, quiet and hard, thick with anger: Get out of my sight.

And Yuri had. The command had forced him to his feet just as the other commands had forced him into stillness, into silence. It had forced him out of the home he'd shared with Flynn, nothing but a house, nothing but the past because he'd known right away that he couldn't stay, that he'd lost his home again.

He'd left. He'd gotten out of Flynn's sight, he'd run and run and somehow gotten himself sent back to his world, out of Flynn's sight, out of his power for four years until Flynn had appeared before him on the sidewalk, older and weary, apologizing with one breath and begging Yuri's help with the next, and all the while staring at him with those same ice blue eyes that had looked down on him in thrall and thrown away everything they had meant to each other.

Friends. Equals. Hah. Yeah, right.

_Partners_.

Yuri felt like he would be sick.

He recognized the emotional storm in the magic now, knew that it was his own signature, laid down years ago when he had left Terca Lumireis behind and offered up everything he had if only they would not be able to follow him. His desperate prayer had been granted.

“What do you know,” he muttered, forcing himself to his feet. “Looks like I really did seal off those bastards.”

He didn't want to approach the gate. The revulsion of his memories, of the anger and resentment and betrayal and, yes, _fear_ that saturated the barrier he had created years ago resonated with his soul and screamed at him to leave, to run, to hold on for dear life to the freedom he had found. He didn't want to go back, wanted with every fiber of his being to seal it all away again. Four years was a long time, though, and now he knew that other people had paid the price for his freedom. Flynn might still have the upper hand, but Yuri wasn't the same kid anymore, and he wasn't about to run away again. He stepped away from the bus stop, fighting his way forward against the wild flares of magic and the wards that had somehow been set by his own broken heart.

It wasn't easy. Even knowing the source of the dread that filled him didn't stop it from battering his psyche. If half his concentration was on bracing himself against the physical assault that tried to push him back, the other half was given over to repressing those newly awakened emotions. It was a shock to be exposed to such an intimate reminder of how badly he'd been hurt. To have caused all of this because he had wished with everything he had that Flynn wouldn't be able to follow him....

Yuri was hunched half over against the wind, one arm up to protect his eyes, left hand nearly numb from the death grip he had on his sword. He drew even with the shadow that had been thrown back with him. It had driven a tendril of its body into the pavement to act as a tether while it drank in the magics of two worlds. Yuri swung his sword, hacking it free. He lost a few steps, staggering away from Flynn and the gate when his momentum aligned with the ongoing explosion of magical energy. The shadow was flung back. It tried to throw out another tether, but the wound Yuri had caused it attracted the attention of two of its fellows. They let themselves be blown away from the gate in the interests of easier pickings. Yuri turned back to his goal as they fell upon the unfortunate shadow.

Flynn was still surrounded. If he was feeling the same thing Yuri was, then he was doing a damn good job of ignoring it while holding his own. The gateway stood before him, a shimmering door through which Yuri could see bright blue sky over golden stones. Flynn had opened the gate on top of the sword stair in the Imperial Palace. Either things were even worse than he'd described, or he had really come up in the world since Yuri had left.

Must have been much easier without a violent, rebellious partner tied to him like a stone around his neck.

The bitterness wasn't making it any easier. Gritting his teeth, Yuri pressed forward, straining to reach the gate. The closer he got, the harder it was to advance. It was like the repulsion between two magnets of the same polarity, but on a massive scale. He had nothing to fight it with, no magic of his own, no emotions strong enough to cut through what he had felt the day he had somehow cast the spell. Opening the way between worlds was going to be impossible.

He heard Flynn shout his name, and even after four years he knew it was a warning. Too slow, he looked back to see a shadow looming just behind him. Repede was his saving grace, a blur of fur and steel that cut through the arms with their bone-clawed tips that had been reaching out to tear Yuri apart. The shadow roared as Yuri turned and was shoved stumbling toward it, sword raised to use that extra push to aid his strike. Yuri caught the shadow high in what counted as its shoulder. His blade sheared through translucent flesh and, caught up in the roiling energies, the shadow's magic drained away. Three others peeled away from the gate to finish it off. Yuri slashed at them as they passed, encouraging more to join until a black, feasting mob had cut off the street behind him, leaving a clearer path to the gate.

If the magic of his own world felt like a light rain, then the magic of Terca Lumireis was like being adrift in the ocean. Magic existed in all worlds, but there were some where it was far more abundant. That abundance was what was drawing crowds of shadows. They edged closer and closer to the gate from both sides, drawn like moths to flame. Flynn was surrounded, not much of a surprise since the shadows could devour far more magic in his world, but it meant he was in trouble. At the moment, he was holding them at bay with the same trick Yuri had used. Their hunger and their territorial nature meant that it only took one good slash to turn one shadow into a target for the others. The problem was that far too many were gathering for such distractions to be effective much longer.

Yuri could see fighting going on behind Flynn. Presumably other warriors were trying to help thin the hoard. They weren't going to be able to reach Flynn before the tide of shadows pulled him under, however, not when the shadows were flickering so easily from one world to the next due to the unfinished gate thinning the barrier. The same force that held Yuri back prevented them from getting too close to the gate as well, but Flynn was far enough away to be a target. Yuri saw the moment he realized that, saw his jaw set with fresh determination as he began to struggle forward.

The shadows roared with a ferocity that Yuri felt even in his own world. Streetlights shattered one by one and car alarms blared into the night. The racket was going to start waking people up, and then someone was going to come looking to see what was going on. They were running out of time.

Each step required all of Yuri's concentration, all of his strength. He had to turn his face aside, eyes watering from the wind of the gale. Beside him, Repede soldiered on, ears flat against his skull, tail pointing straight out behind him. Flynn was approaching from the other side, having just as much difficulty. Yuri glanced at him, swallowing back the anger over what he had done, the fear that he might try again. People had died. He kept reminding himself of that. People had died and more would follow if he didn't do this. There would be time later to worry about what he was getting himself into.

Flynn cried out. The sound of it, abrupt and unexpected, seized Yuri's attention. He whipped his head forward, squinting into the wind. Flynn's blurry figure wavered in his sight, staggering. It wasn't until he went down on one knee that Yuri saw what had happened.

The shadows had attacked. Tentacles had lanced into him from behind, wounding, draining. Flynn remained still for a moment, leaning heavily on his sword. Then, with an effort that left him shaking, he heaved himself to his feet and took another step toward the gate. Turning to drive back the shadows, to cut away the tentacles, would have lost him precious ground. He stepped forward again as the shadows tried to draw him back, jaw clenched, too blue eyes fixed on Yuri's. Reaching out, Flynn shouted Yuri's name.

Yuri hadn't realized that he'd stopped. His mouth had gone dry. He stared into Flynn's eyes, unable to look away. The shadows, the pressure, the city street all meant nothing to him. He was remembering another night, one lit in flashes by an oncoming storm. He remembered incandescent blue fury, pain, and the theft of his free will. He waited for the searing pain to ignite around his wrist.

No orders came. Flynn was dragging himself forward with that same stubborn determination that only Yuri had ever been able to match. He was focused on his goal—The gate. _Yuri_.—and his lips were sealed in a thin line. All of a sudden, Yuri realized that Flynn was trusting him to open the gate somehow. Even after all that had happened between them, even after what he had done, Flynn still had faith that Yuri would come through. He was placing his trust in Yuri's strength, placing the outcome in Yuri's hands.

The understanding kick-started something in Yuri's brain. He started forward again, one shuffling step after another. Head down, feeling as if he would be thrown back should he lift one foot off the ground, he forced his way ahead against the magical pressure trying to hold him back. It was like wading through mud that thickened around him the closer he got to the gate. Two steps away and he felt like he was encased in concrete. Flynn was frozen on his side as well, arm outstretched nearly to the doorway where a maelstrom of magical energies clashed.

“Yuri!” He was sagging, leaning on his sword again as the shadows hauled themselves closer to him and the gateway along the tentacles they'd harpooned him with. Flynn ignored them, eyes focused on Yuri, pleading, trusting.

He couldn't break through the spell, could barely move. Why Flynn had thought he'd be capable of it was beyond him. He was only a partner, only a man summoned from another world with barely enough magic to handle a shadow on his own. What could he do against this?

The shadows that had gotten too close to the gateway suddenly found themselves unraveling, spilling their stolen magic and the very essence of their forms into the raging storm. Yuri's sword lost to the pressure, vanishing from his hand like a wisp of smoke. Magic flared briefly in its wake, dispersing in a flash. He heard Flynn shout his name again, fingertips in their armored gloves frozen just short of his side of the incomplete gateway. Magic flared along his hand, bursting into life in wild sparks of uncontrolled power. The same thing was happening to Yuri, and he could feel it leaving behind amorphous swathes of magic burn. If they kept this up for much longer, the conflicting forces were going to strip the life out of them. He had to break through or back down, and Yuri was heartily sick of backing down.

“Order me to come through!” he shouted.

Lifting his left hand was nearly impossible, but he fought for every inch, straining to get just a little closer to Flynn, just a little closer to the gateway. It felt like he would be crushed, his bones broken, his flesh compressed down. He'd seen photos once of what deep sea pressure did to an unprotected Styrofoam cup. Yuri felt just about as fragile right then as he stared down the length of his arm, past the cuff that bound him to Flynn as it shone and sparked, past his hand, fingers outstretched and grasping, into summer sky eyes that conjured a whirlwind of memories from the better part of his life.

“Yuri!”

“ _Do it_!” He couldn't break through on his own, but Flynn's commands were absolute. As long as he wore the cuff, he was bound. If that was what it took.... “Order me through!”

Flynn was sinking, falling to his knees, too drained to hold himself up. Yuri could clearly see the exhaustion carved into his features now, the pain. He had nothing left to give, and Yuri steeled himself for what was coming.

“Yuri.... Please....”

The words were barely audible over the roar of magic that pounded against Yuri's skin and sang into him to rush through his blood and speed his heart. Stupid. That stupid, stubborn...! Hadn't he been the one to say the world had to come first? Flynn smiled, tired and trusting, and the rage boiling in the air surged into Yuri and through him. He roared and threw himself forward, gaining almost no ground against the magic trying to repel him even as it leeched away his strength. Flynn's sword clattered to the ground. He was on his knees, one hand braced against the golden stones, the other still reaching, still holding out hope that Yuri would break through. He was going to die. If he didn't get up and get away, he was going to be crushed by the pressure, be bled dry of magic and life until he was nothing but an armored husk. Flynn raised his head and looked Yuri in the eye. He was smiling; a tiny, weary, trusting curve of his lips.

Staring at that exhausted smile, Yuri saw the boy who had plucked him out of his solitude and misery into a new world, a place of magic and excitement. He saw the boy who had befriended him, who had become his other half, the person Yuri trusted with his life, his soul, his _everything_ , and Yuri remembered the worst part of it, the worst part of learning the truth about what he'd called the Guardian World, about his subsequent fight with Flynn, and Flynn's betrayal. The worst part, the most unforgivable thing about it all....

The magic overwhelmed him. Power flooded his body, power and all the rage and hurt of a seventeen year old who had just lost everything courtesy of the one person he'd counted on for nearly all of his life. Yuri screamed. Forward, forward, _forward_! The command beat in his pulse, moved his legs, overrode everything. All he could feel was the magic and the furious imprint of his flight. He didn't realize when the impetus to move forward drove him up to the gate, didn't realize when his fingertips broke through. Pain like nothing he had ever felt before burst across his wrist, racing up his arm, shooting through his heart. Yuri screamed again and collapsed to his knees. The entirety of his left arm was burning cold and he saw, as his vision swam and the edges of his world went dark, armored fingers twine between his, and a band of magic burn where a golden cuff had encircled his wrist for fifteen years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flynn will occasionally have a pov chapter, but those will usually be a bit shorter, actually, despite the fact that I usually preferred to write from his pov.

As soon as he was back in his quarters, Flynn stripped out of his dulled armor, his filthy tunic, and bloodied undershirt and stared at himself in the mirror. He had to admit that he looked ready to collapse. It had probably only been the uniform that had kept people following his orders. He was nothing more than a vessel for the hope that his newly-created position represented: hope for victory, hope that their world could still be saved. He ran his fingers down his arms, stretching, twisting, pulling at his skin to examine the smoky discoloration of the magic burns that had marked him. They trailed across his chest and stomach, over his left cheek, and, as he twisted to get a look in the mirror, up and down his back as well. It was a safe bet that his legs were similarly marked beneath his pants.

Flynn sighed. He would be a few days healing up after that, and it was time that he could ill afford to waste. It meant he would be entering into battle at half strength. Hopefully, it would be enough. The restoration of the shamans' ability to cross between worlds had been a key victory, one that had raised people's spirits and would boost morale. Thank all that was holy that creating gates was a magic still available to him while he recovered. It would have been too much if he'd been barred from charging after any shadows that fled his pursuit across worlds. The shadows _had_ to be destroyed. There were too many of them, and they'd all gone feral without the Throne to keep them in line. They were going to destroy everything they'd been created to maintain.

A bitter smile tugged at Flynn's lips. There was no humor in the situation, but he wondered what the sorcerers who had formed the first shadows so long ago would think if they could see the problems they'd caused. Most likely, they wouldn't give a toss. Their time was over. This was a problem for someone else. It was Flynn's problem, something he had to prevail against along with his friends. They were the ones suffering because of the arrogance of those ancient sorcerers.

Them, and now Yuri who Flynn had been forced to drag into the middle of it all.

'Thank you' wasn't enough. Neither was 'I'm sorry.' He'd realized how small those words were when he'd tried to break through to Yuri and felt the feedback from the barrier. It had never been so strong before. It had always been echoes. Was it the fact that he'd been trying to get into Yuri's world that had made it flare so fiercely, or the fact that Yuri had been there, too, pushing from the other side?

He'd known that he had crossed a line four years ago, but he hadn't known how deeply he had hurt Yuri. Had it been a mistake to leave him alone for so long? Flynn had always tried to think of it as letting Yuri return to his own world and the life he should have had. He'd thought he was giving Yuri his freedom back. Perhaps that, too, had been a mistake. Deep down, Flynn feared that there would be no repairing their relationship. Although it had been unlikely from the start that Yuri would wish to stay, the hope that something remained of the bond between them had taunted Flynn throughout his waking hours from the very first moment he had realized that Yuri would have to be called back into the Guardian World. Flynn didn't want to lose him again.

Even now, remembering the way Yuri had dropped like a stone into his arms as soon as the gate had opened left Flynn cold. It had taken a massive amount of magic to break through the barrier that had isolated the Guardian World. Part of that power had come from the golden cuff that had bound Yuri to him. When Yuri had fallen, when Flynn had noticed that the cuff was gone, he'd been terrified that the worst had happened. That cuff had tied Yuri's life to Flynn's, and all the lore and texts that Flynn had studied over the years had agreed that removing the symbol of a partner's bond was always fatal.

The shock had driven everything else from Flynn's mind. He had knelt on the stones, blind to the shadows crowding in around him without the maelstrom of magical energies to hold them back, deaf to the cries of his fellow warriors as they had surged forward to defend him. Flynn had only been aware of Yuri, cradled in his arms and lying still and quiet as the grave. He had bent over Yuri, running a shaking hand over his tangled hair as pleas and denials had spilled from his lips: _don't be dead Yuri please don't be dead you can't be dead please please Yuri please you can't be dead can't be please please_.

Flynn shook himself. The memory was only hours old, and clinging to his mind like cobwebs. In the moment, it had felt like an eternity. In hindsight, it could only have been a few seconds before he had felt a breath against his cheek and realized that Yuri was still alive. Relief had left him weak and shaking. It had seemed a miracle that he had been able to get to his feet, and he had hated to hand Yuri off to the two healers that had hurried to his side, but there had been the shadows and he had needed to fight and he had needed to have Yuri taken somewhere safe and he couldn't have done both himself.

Luckily, the shadows had quickly made themselves scarce, having long since learned to flee to other worlds when a fight turned against them. Exhausted by the strain of opening the gate and fending off the shadows, Flynn hadn't given the order to pursue them. It had been four years since anyone had been able to leave the Guardian World. Plans for hunting down the shadows would have to be put into place. Partners would need to be trained and reminded of the rules for visiting other worlds. They needed to regroup and strategize. Now that gateways to other worlds were open to them again, they could finally turn the tide against the shadows. If they could find the Throne of Lumireis, then the shadows could actually be brought under control.

Organizing all of that would be a job for Alexei, however, and Flynn had been inwardly grateful for the opportunity to rest after his debriefing. Bringing Yuri back had been his idea, though he hadn't been entirely truthful about his suspicions regarding the connection between Yuri's departure four years ago and the sudden isolation of their world. Now that his plan had worked, Flynn was in desperate need of some time to think and to allow his body to heal. Exhausted as he was, his thoughts continually brought up the worry that someone might make the connection and come looking to blame Yuri for all the destruction the shadows had caused.

Four years ago, Flynn would have known that the two of them could have stood up to anyone. Now, they were at odds, and the bond between them which would have allowed Flynn to give Yuri the use of his magic had been severed. He could no longer sense his friend. The absence was, in a way, like that of a missing tooth...only infinitely more distracting. During the hours after the bridging of the worlds, when Flynn had been busy checking on those who had fought with him, and then waiting on a summons from Alexei to give his report, he'd had to wait for news from a healer to know that Yuri would be all right. He had sent the messenger back with some of his own clothes to replace Yuri's dirtied ones, as well as instructions to have him taken to Estellise and Rita's residence. As much as Flynn would have preferred having Yuri on the palace grounds, he would be safe enough with the girls, and probably happier to be at a quiet manor among friends rather than the makeshift refugee camp that the palace had become.

Now, finished with all his duties and given leave to rest up for the chaos that tomorrow would surely bring, Flynn found himself at loose ends. He was exhausted and needed to rest, but he could tell that sleep would not come easily. There was still so much to be done, so much planning, so much fighting, and after that, the rebuilding. Changes needed to be made. The shadows could no longer be relied upon to supply the Guardian World with its magic. Shamans would have to learn how to seek out partners rather than calling them up and binding them with the old spells. Surely, the Guardian World could be remade, could be saved from the evils it had been built upon.

That was what Yuri had demanded, years ago. It was what Flynn would have helped him achieve, what he had been working toward during the past four years as much as possible while shadows tried to devour his world. Now, with the very foundations of the Guardian World already shaken, it felt like the changes they had wanted were actually possible. Things could be put right. And, as if decreed by fate, Yuri had returned when their goal was within reach. Flynn had laid the groundwork by spreading the truth, and Yuri had turned the tide in the war against the shadows. They could triumph together.

Together.

The word tore at Flynn. Yuri was so close. For the first time in four years, Flynn could go to him, talk to him, reach out and touch him...except he knew that his presence would not be welcomed. He could hardly blame Yuri, although the rift between them was a terrible ache in his chest. Flynn had known that he had made a grave mistake that night, but until he had tried to break through the barrier and had felt everything that Yuri had poured into it, he hadn't realized exactly how badly he had wounded his friend. It wouldn't surprise him if Yuri refused to ever see him again, though the mere possibility was misery to consider. Flynn longed to see him, to be sure that Yuri was all right, to simply...to simply fix Yuri in his memories. It was too much to ask that he stay away, no matter that he knew Yuri needed space...no matter that Flynn was afraid of what reception awaited him.

He needed to see for himself that Yuri was all right. Estellise would send word when he awoke, and Flynn was sure she would have contacted him had anything happened in the meantime, but that wasn't the same as seeing for himself. He needed something to replace that image in his head of Yuri, cuff vanished from his wrist, collapsing as if lifeless. Just a quick look before he could no longer deny the need to sleep....

Flynn took the basin and ewer off his dressing table and sat down with them on the floor at the foot of his bed. He poured out a measure of water and waited for it to still. When it shone mirror bright before him, he lifted a hand over it and concentrated.

Casting was more difficult than he had expected. He was weary and drained. It was difficult even to keep his thoughts focused. He had risen early the day before, reached out to Yuri twice, then been called away when shadows had attacked the palace. He had fought and survived and made contact with Yuri once more. Together, they had broken the barrier that had cut off the Guardian World from all other worlds. Yuri had fallen, and Flynn had been forced to lock away his fears and continue to fight.

The shadows had been routed as twilight crept over the world. Awareness of the missing barrier had spread throughout all those present. Many of the shamans had crossed into other worlds to hunt down shadows, despite having been given no such orders to do so. Some had returned. Others had not. Chaos reigned within the palace as night fell. Orders had to be given. Reports poured in. Flynn had been in the middle of it all, trying to see that the wounded got help, that no shadows remained on the palace grounds, and all the while trying to form a coherent account of the battle, the victories, the losses out of snatches of conversation and reports that came to him. He'd been summoned to meet with Alexei, but left waiting in the antechamber as others came and went with their own reports. Despite his best efforts, he'd dozed off, and those few minutes of uneasy sleep hadn't been nearly what his exhausted mind and body needed. And then there had been the interview with Alexei....

Flynn shook his head. He'd been nodding over the basin, and his fingertip had dipped below the surface. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus as he waited once more for the water to grow still. He promised himself hours of sleep as soon as he had finished this one final task. His exhaustion didn't lessen in the slightest, but he found the determination needed to counter it. Once more he raised his hand over the basin and began to cast a spell.

Magic welled at the tip of his finger like ink. As he spoke the invocation and traced a rune in the air, the magic flowed onto the surface of the water without disturbing it. Years of practice made it easier to focus once the spell had begun, but Flynn still felt abnormally weakened by the energy it took. His reserves were nearly depleted. As he finished casting, he sagged with relief and weariness, and watched as the magic he had laid down worked to follow the commands of the spell. The rune reshaped itself upon the surface of the water, forming into the image of a wide, staring eye. It blinked once, then expanded, outlines opening up like a dark ripple across the surface until it hit the edges of the basin. The pupil followed, dilating and eventually expanding to fill the entire surface with impenetrable darkness.

“Yuri,” Flynn breathed.

He fixed his thoughts on his friend, remembered growing up together, playing and fighting, hunting shadows as a team, sparring, arguing, growing apart. He remembered the fight they'd had before Yuri had left, he remembered his first glimpse of Yuri after four years of separation and the shock that had left him pale. He remembered Yuri as he had been in his own world, angry and hurt and bitter. He remembered Yuri struggling to reach him, remembered the feel of their fingers intertwining as the barrier had given way. He remembered Yuri lying limp in his arms, unresponsive. He called up every memory he had and offered them to the magic to forge a connection.

“Please. Show me Yuri.”

An image appeared on the water's surface, and Flynn's heart leapt, spurred by mingled joy and relief. Yuri was sleeping peacefully on the chaise in Estellise's conservatory. It had been a place of refuge for him, years ago, and Flynn's lips curved in a bittersweet smile to see him there now. Yuri was deeply asleep, unusually still considering that he'd always been a fitful sleeper. He'd been dressed in the clothes Flynn had sent for him—white shirt, white pants—and that and the moonlight and his naturally pale skin conspired to make him look ghostly and insubstantial. Magic burn had left its mark on him, as well, and dark shadows underlined his eyes.

He looked so small, so still. _Closer_ , Flynn thought. _I need to see him closer._ He needed to know that Yuri really was all right, needed to see the rise and fall of his breath, the twitch of his eyelids as he dreamed. He needed to see some sign of life in the still as marble scene.

As Flynn leaned forward and the scrying spell swooped lower, the day caught up with him. He blinked slowly, heavy-lidded eyes reluctant to open once more as he toppled forward. At the last moment he caught a glimpse of a dark eye opening on top of the water, growing impossibly large until it filled his vision and he plunged beneath the surface.

He tumbled down, down into a drowning darkness. Weightless and disoriented, he held his breath and struggled to swim. A faint, blue glow lent him direction, and he kicked toward it, realizing that he was seeing the light of a full moon filtering down through the dark water. Lungs burning, he swam, feeling as if he was swimming up into the sky itself. The moon grew huge above him, clear and unmarred by ripples upon the surface of the water that still seemed so far away. The need for air grew overwhelming, and his jaw wrenched open in a gasp. Bubbles escaped as he clapped a hand reflexively—uselessly—over his mouth. He felt them tickle his palm and then his head broke the surface and he sucked in a deep breath, coughing and spluttering as he made for the shore.

Red flowers spread out in all directions. Flynn recognized the place as the field where the sacred festivals were held. The scene was drenched in midnight shadow, silvered by moonlight, nothing but the nodding heads of deep red blossoms as far as he could see. A warm summer wind kicked up as he climbed out of the water and stood. He was fully dry, and held something in his hand. It was a marble, pearly white and gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

Movement in the water caught his eye. The pool he had just emerged from was circular, free of even a single petal, though the wind was strong enough to whip them up into the air. The surface of the water was mirror still, and showed a different sky, one where the the sun hung directly overhead. The flowers in the reflection were nothing more than withered brown heads atop dry stems, but it wasn't their swaying movement that had caught Flynn's attention.

Yuri was reflected in the pool, arms crossed tight over his chest as a breeze whipped through his hair and left him shivering. He was staring at something off to the side, unaware of Flynn's arrival in the dream.

“Yuri....” A longing so powerful that it ached within his chest left Flynn reaching helplessly toward the reflection. The marble dropped from his fingers. It hit the water without a splash, sending out ripples as it plunged into that winter day, and turned instantly jet black. It continued to fall, upwards into Flynn's outstretched hand where he now stood beside Yuri at the edge of the pool which reflected a summer night. He curled his fingers tightly around the marble as Yuri turned to face him.

The shock in Yuri's expression changed swiftly to bitter poison. Flynn didn't even have time to speak before Yuri's left hook caught him on the jaw. His head snapped back with a grunt of pain, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling of his room, thrown free of the dream. Flynn shook his head, feeling phantom pain where Yuri's fist had connected, and waved a hand over the basin of water, dispelling the last traces of magic. Weary and heartsick, he sagged, calling up reserves of strength just to haul himself to his feet so that he could collapse into bed.

He supposed that he'd deserved that reaction. It didn't make it hurt any less. He found himself wondering with a dull, miserable dread whether Yuri would hate him in his dreams, or whether he would be haunted by the sight of him on the Sword Stair, the sensation of holding him, nothing but dead weight. Exhaustion overtook him, snuffing out his thoughts. His sleep was deep and blessedly dreamless.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha Yuri finally lets himself finish that thought he had in chapter two about the worst part of all this.

Somewhere out in the warm sunlight that turned the darkness behind Yuri's closed eyes rosy, birds were singing. They had woken him up sooner than he would have liked. He ached all over, skin stinging beneath his clothes. With a sigh, he rolled onto his side, annoyed to find that the bed he'd been sleeping on was actually a chaise lounge, and that he was liable to fall off the narrow seat if he wasn't careful. He rubbed his eyes, remembering fragments of a dream. He'd been alone at the edge of the still, blue pool in the field of dead flowers. In winter, the place was a vast and utter loneliness. There had been a feeling as if someone had called his name, a movement on the surface of the water, and then Flynn had been there, and Yuri's fist had clenched and flown of its own accord....

The grim desire to do the same in person filled him. Unconsciously, he'd curled his fingers into fists, nails biting into his palms. When he caught sight of his bare left wrist, his heart seemed to stutter and then speed up, pumping ice through his veins. Slowly, he sat up, raising his arm in front of his face.

The cuff was gone. The only trace that it had ever been there was a band of magic burn that covered half of his forearm and some of his hand. He stared, wide-eyed and not entirely sure he wasn't dreaming. It should have been _impossible_ to remove that cuff while he was still alive, but it was just...just gone. His shackle. His link to Flynn.

Yuri's hand was beginning to shake. He lowered it to his lap and took stock.

He was dressed in borrowed clothes, a loose white tunic and pants, both cut from fine, thin cloth. Yuri wondered if it had been Flynn who had changed him and where his things had been taken. Light as his new clothes were, they were still almost too warm. He'd been brought to a conservatory. All around him was greenery—bushes, trees, tubs and basins of flowers. Birds darted between the branches, jewel-bright and twittering. Far overhead, the conservatory was enclosed with a glass roof that welcomed in the warm sunlight.

He knew this place. There would be two doors: one leading outside, and the other connecting to a manor house. Looking toward the far side of the conservatory, the one away from the house, he saw a platform suspended high above the ground. Largely hidden by some of the tallest plants in the conservatory, Yuri knew that the platform was balanced atop an impossibly delicate stairway of shimmering white stone that spiraled up from the floor.

The chaise he'd been sleeping on was familiar, too. It was a thinly-cushioned affair of pale wood carved with flowing designs, flanked by two arm chairs in the center of a marble-tiled clearing. A small table in front of him held a glass and a pitcher of water along with a tiered tray of cakes and tarts beneath a glass cover. He recognized a few of his old favorites among them. If Flynn was trying to buy his forgiveness, he was only setting himself up for disappointment.

A moment later, Yuri realized his mistake. It wouldn't be Flynn, would it? Not here. This was a place he used to come to when arguments with Flynn got to be too much, when he couldn't stand the thought of sleeping under the same roof as his friend. It had been a refuge.

The tapping of light footsteps sounded on the tiled floor, and a figure from his past—one much more welcome than Flynn—came into view. He stood up as Estelle appeared from behind a towering bush of pale yellow flowers. She had barely changed over the past four years, though her previously long pink hair was now cut in a short bob. The moment she saw him, her eyes lit up. She rushed forward to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yuri! You're awake! Oh, I'm so happy to see you again!”

Both a friend and a skilled healer, she had to have been the one watching over him. Yuri hugged her back, touched by the warm greeting. Although he'd never intended to return to Terca Lumireis, he couldn't deny that he was glad to see Estelle again. She might have been brought up there same as Flynn, but Yuri was certain that, had she known about the corruption beneath the surface, she wouldn't have stood for it a moment longer. There was a time when he would have thought the same of Flynn, but experience had proved him wrong. With a sudden shiver of uncertainty, he hoped that he wouldn't be wrong about her as well.

Giving him one last squeeze, Estelle stepped back to get a look at him. She held him at arm's length, hands on his shoulders as if he might bolt if she let go. Maybe she _was_ worried about that possibility. It wasn't as if Yuri knew what Flynn had told her. Even if he'd stuck to the truth, shamans were supposed to be in control of their partners. By the standards of Terca Lumireis society, Flynn hadn't done anything wrong. He was the shining knight with access to the palace. He was the one with power and allies. He was the one who belonged.

Estelle was talking to him. “Are you all right? Do you hurt anywhere? Are you hungry? I can bring some food—”

Yuri laughed. He'd been an idiot to doubt her for even a moment. Ruffling Estelle's hair, Yuri sat back down on the chaise.

“I'm good for now.”

He took a cake to quell the skepticism in her stare. The scent of it, the first taste on his tongue awakened his hunger. Yuri wolfed it down and helped himself to two more as Estelle poured him a glass of water. When had he eaten last? Time in the Terca Lumireis didn't match up with his own. It left him feeling jet lagged on top of weary and bruised. He remembered the sunset wash of light across the stone of the Sword Stair. Overhead, the sky looked like it couldn't be past noon, if it was even that late. He'd slept the rest of yesterday and through the night, and he hadn't eaten since his lunch break at work back in his own world....

“Actually, lunch might not be such a bad idea.” He grinned sheepishly as his stomach seconded that thought with a growl. The cakes, though delicious and sweetly nostalgic, weren't going to be enough to assuage his hunger.

“I'll be right back!” He half expected her to order him not to go anywhere, but Estelle merely leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I missed you.”

For just a moment, he met her green eyes before she whirled and was gone. The sincerity he'd seen there reassured him.

Aside from the birds, the conservatory was eerily quiet. It didn't take long for Yuri to grow restless. The place wasn't so large that Estelle wouldn't be able to find him if he went wandering, so he decided to stretch his legs as he waited. Four paths led away from the sitting area. Estelle had gone back along the one leading into the manor. Yuri picked the one to the left, and strolled off among the plants.

The conservatory was well kept, the plants huge and full but not overgrown. Carved marble pedestals and brightly enameled pots offered up riots of colorful blooms along the center of the path. The marble tiles shone, scrubbed and kept clear of dead leaves, which had been swept up and deposited around the bases of plants to eventually become compost for the trees and bushes that had shed them. Every few steps brought a new specimen, new flowers in full bloom to add to the mixed perfume of the air. Some of them were tiny as snowflakes, gathered in bunches and drifts at the ends of their branches. Others were larger than the spread of his fingers.

Yuri came to the end of the path. More towering greenery sprouted from marble basins, stretching branches and grasping clusters of leaves and flowers up to the windows as if calling down the blessing of sunlight. He turned left, further away from the paths Estelle had used and walked along. It was noticeably warmer near the glass wall of the conservatory. He tugged at the collar of his loose shirt, flapping it against his skin to create a breeze. He was beginning to feel like he'd gotten stuck in a dream, caught in a limbo of flowers and sunlight when he'd been pulled back into what his former best friend had described as a war zone, then left alone while events progressed without him. Had Flynn only needed him to break the spell that kept his people locked in their own world and unable to pursue the shadows? Was Yuri now an unwelcome guest, someone to be turned out into the normal life he'd fought to create, someone to be forgotten and left alone like he'd wanted? Why did that thought bring a bitter twist to his lips? Terca Lumireis wasn't his to fight for. He wasn't convinced that it could even be saved.

Further on, he came to the corner of the conservatory. There was a fountain there, dry, but not dusty. It had been filled with pots of flowering vines that cascaded down in place of water. Yuri took a seat on the sun-warmed stone. No sense in wondering if he had done the right thing by coming back. All he had now was the decision of what to do to move forward.

A soft clicking of claws on tile gave him a second's warning before Repede came trotting down the path. The dog reared up on his hind legs and thrust his muzzle into Yuri's face, snuffling, checking to be sure he was all right. Yuri laughed and ruffled his fur, glad for another friendly face.

“Hey, Repede! Easy! You have a chance to check things out?” He had only just eased Repede down off of him when he realized that they weren't alone.

A woman stood a few steps away, watching them with a smile. Her outfit was far less conservative than Yuri had come to expect of denizens of Terca Lumireis, showing off her stomach and thighs and a generous amount of cleavage. Her confidence dared him—or anyone, really—to make an issue of it. She had long, pointed ears and purple hair pulled back into a bun. Her eyes were red. Their color and the shape of her ears marked her as someone's partner. Knowing full well what that meant put him on edge. Warily, not sure who she was partnered with or why she was in Estelle's conservatory, Yuri stood, keeping his eyes on her.

“That's a good friend you've got there,” she said, nodding at Repede.

“We make a good team. Who are you?”

“Judith. It's good to meet you, Yuri. You're somewhat infamous around here.”

Even after four years? Did everyone in Terca Lumireis know that he was responsible for sealing them off? That didn't bode well for his chances of continuing his normal life...or any life, really.

“How do you know Estelle?”

Judith's eyes twinkled. “I'm Rita's partner.”

_Rita_ had summoned a partner? The revelation left a bad taste in Yuri's mouth. It was routine for shamans to summon partners, of course, and Rita had been astonishingly adept with magic, but knowing how unfair a partnership could be, it didn't quite sit right with Yuri that someone he'd called a friend could go along with such an imbalanced system.

“How's that working out?” Yuri asked.

“Oh, I'm having _lots_ of fun. She and I get along very well.”

Estelle returned before Yuri could ask any more questions. He heard her calling him above the faint rattle of dishes.

“Sounds like lunchtime,” Judith said. “Shall we?” She led the way back down the path. Repede followed her without hesitation, and Yuri brought up the rear.

The aroma of fresh-baked bread mixed into the perfumed air of the conservatory, growing stronger as they made their way back to the table. Along with a loaf and crock of butter, Estelle had brought out a soup tureen and a stack of bowls with spoons. She was setting things out on the table as Rita came in with glasses and a pitcher of ice water flavored with slices of lemon. She nodded to him, the most reserved greeting he'd received so far, then took one of the two chairs as Judith claimed the other. Estelle ushered Yuri into a seat on the chaise and served him a bowl of vichyssoise and a thick slice of buttered bread over his protests that he could help himself. She poured him a glass of water, as well, before making sure that Judith, Rita, and Repede all had a serving, then finally sat down next to him to fix her own lunch.

Someone must have opened windows into the conservatory, because Yuri felt a soft breeze pick up and cut through the still, warm air. The cold soup was refreshing, and Yuri suddenly felt, bizarrely, like he was a guest at a picnic. The sunlight and birdsong and scent of flowers, the taste of thick, creamy soup and fragrant bread, the calm atmosphere all felt strangely dreamlike after the chaos of his arrival, the pain of his injuries and the maelstrom of dread and anger. Wasn't this world in trouble? Hadn't Flynn said they were fighting for their survival? Where was Flynn, anyway? Yuri was only here because of him, so why hadn't he shown his sorry face? Too busy to bother once Yuri had done what he'd asked? Or maybe he simply didn't care anymore. Yuri looked down at his wrist, at the emptiness around it where the cuff had once been. He remembered his last glimpse of Flynn, exhausted and injured, barely able to hold himself up as shadows closed in....

“Where's Flynn?”

He wasn't even sure he'd meant to ask, but once the question was out, he raised his head and looked around at the others. Judith hadn't paid the question any attention, perhaps not unaware of the tension beneath the surface, but sitting at a greater remove from it than Estelle and Rita who had grown up with them. Rita gave him a look that told him he'd just asked a very stupid question. It was Estelle who set down her glass and met his eyes to explain.

“Flynn...thought that it would be best to give you some space.”

“Did he?”

He couldn't meet her eyes, was afraid of what she might see in his. Flynn came begging Yuri to come back after four years of separation and a complete betrayal of trust, and now he either couldn't be bothered to deal with Yuri's presence or simply couldn't face what lay between them. Well, it wasn't like Yuri had wanted to deal with it either. He could have happily spent the rest of his life having nothing to do with Flynn or Terca Lumireis. It hadn't been his idea to come back and re-open old wounds.

The odd comfort of the meal was gone, replaced with far too many thoughts. Yuri tried to shove them away, tried to think of something—anything—else, but what else was there to focus on? He emptied his bowl and helped himself to seconds as the girls talked about Rita's progress on some new invention. The conversation washed over him without sinking in. He'd been gone too long, didn't know the situation, didn't know what they were talking about, had always had difficulty following Rita's more technical explanations, anyway. Suddenly, he wanted very badly to see Flynn, if only to punch him right in the face for real. He'd been pulled into a crisis and then abandoned at a luncheon and he was damned if he was going to leave things unsettled between them.

“Grip that bowl any tighter and it's going to shatter and you'll mess up your nice, new pants,” Rita warned. She was watching him from her chair, an elbow propped on the armrest, her chin in hand. Yuri met her eyes and unclenched his fingers. He hadn't even realized how tense he'd become.

“Yuri?” Estelle laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

To his surprise, Rita came to his rescue again. “Would you be? Leave him alone. They probably just need to knock each other around a bit and things will go back to normal.”

She didn't understand, not really, but just the fact that she knew how badly he wanted to pick a fight with Flynn was enough to make him flash her a sharp smile. Rita gave the barest shrug and tore off a chunk of bread which she popped into her mouth.

“Oh? Up for a little workout so soon?” Judith's interest was another surprise. Yuri looked her up and down, reassessing his impression of her as she cracked her knuckles. “I wouldn't mind a new sparring partner, particularly if you've kept in shape since you left.”

“What, Repede didn't tell you? He and I have been chasing down stray shadows on our own—no 'Guardian' World interference needed.”

“How impressive.”

“I don't know if this is such a good idea,” Estelle put in. “Yuri's been hurt, and crossing over took a lot out of him. Maybe another day...?”

Rita waved off her concerns. “Forget it, Estelle. Let them tire each other out. Maybe it'll actually help him get some decent sleep later.”

Yuri's gaze darted to her. He'd forgotten that Rita's attempts at kindness were often barbed. More importantly, he wondered what he might have said in his restless sleep while others were around to overhear.

“Will you at least promise to go easy on him, Judith?”

“Hey!”

“Well, I would, but I really don't think that's what he wants.”

“Damn right!”

Estelle sighed, her concern overruled. “All right. There should be space enough behind the house. Rita, if you—”

“I'll clean up here.” She stood and began stacking bowls. “After that, I'm going back to my workroom. Don't worry about starting without me.”

“Not going to come watch the fun?” Judith asked her.

“You and I have very different definitions of fun.”

Still prickly as ever, but Judith must have known her long enough not to take any offense from Rita's manner. She let the dismissal go and turned her smile onto Yuri.

“Shall we?”

“You go ahead, Judith.” Estelle had reached out and laid a hand on Yuri's arm as he rose eagerly to his feet. “I need to speak with Yuri first. We'll follow you shortly.”

They split up, Rita to the kitchen, Judith to the yard, and Estelle leading Yuri and Repede into the house. It was a nice place, maybe just a little larger than the Scifo family home where he had grown up with Flynn. An open plan and large windows practically filling up the outer walls kept the space bright and airy even without any lamps on. As Estelle led the way upstairs, Yuri noticed that the lights which should have run off of magic in place of electricity seemed to have been replaced by candles. Thinking back to the dried up fountain in the conservatory, he extended his awareness and realized that there were very few active spells in the house. Rita had always been devoted to the study of magic and all its applications. Were she and Estelle cutting back now because Terca Lumireis was being drained? Or was it because they were afraid of making their home a target for shadows?

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

He was edgy, restless. As good as it was to see Estelle again, he wasn't in the mood to catch up at the moment. He flexed his fingers, missing the feel of a hilt in his hand. He would have to borrow one now that his cuff was gone and, with it, the sword Flynn had given him. Why was it that all of Yuri's troubles led back to Flynn? Even now he managed to be at the center of Yuri's life, if only because everything was linked to him, somehow.

“I have something for you, actually.”

“For me? Is it a change of clothes?” He plucked at the loose shirt, thinking that, too, must have come from Flynn.

“I'm afraid not.” She paused just outside the door at the top of the stairs. “Will you be all right fighting Judith in that?”

“It'll do.”

Although she didn't look entirely convinced, she let it drop. She led him through the second door into a neat little spare bedroom walled with bookshelves packed floor to ceiling. The only gaps in the shelves were for the single bed on one wall, and a desk placed below a wide window overlooking the yard behind the house. The clothes that he had been wearing last night sat washed and folded on the bed, and his sneakers had been placed on the floor. He sat down and pulled on his socks and shoes, feeling slightly more grounded even with only that small touch of normalcy. Rips and bloodstains showed clearly on his shirt and jeans, however, and Yuri quickly dismissed the idea of changing back into them. He hadn't been carrying anything of value aside from the key to his apartment which sat gleaming atop the pile. More interesting was the long bundle swathed in black silk that sat on the desk. Estelle crossed the room and brushed a hand over it.

“I commissioned this for you. I had planned to give it to you on the anniversary of your summoning. It would have been a week after you left.”

Lifting the bundle, she turned to him with a watery smile and held it out. Yuri took it without a word, knowing already what was wrapped up inside. He unwrapped the silk with care to reveal a slender, sheathed sword with a small guard. White silk ribbons were wrapped around the gold-accented sheath. Yuri's breath caught as he drew the sword. It was a work of art, the faintly curved blade shining like the finest crystal in the sunlight. It felt perfectly balanced in his hand, but he passed off the sheath and silk to Estelle and turned aside to make a few practice slashes. Beautiful. Even moving slowly, it practically sung as it cut through the air.

“Estelle, this is....”

He ran his fingers lightly down the flat of the blade, then turned it in his hands to do the same to the other side. That was when he noticed the light twinkling in an inscription. He lifted the sword and took a closer look.

_The first star is for him_

Yuri looked up and met Estelle's eyes. Her smile was troubled, and her gaze flickered back and forth from his to the sword in his hands.

“It's named 'The Second Star.' The inscription...well. It made sense four years ago. I can have it removed, if you want.”

She reached out for the sword and Yuri drew back, a bitter smile on his lips. “ 'The first star is for him.' Was I that obvious?”

She shook her head. “Not obvious, but you didn't always hide it well. Yuri...I know you and Flynn had your differences. The two of you were arguing so often before you left, but I can't believe that the rift between you is something that can't be mended! Flynn's been so torn up over it....”

Yuri snorted. It irritated him to think of Flynn spending the past four years filled with regret. If it had really bothered him so much, why hadn't he tried to apologize before he needed something in return? He'd changed Yuri from an equal into a tool, and now Estelle was saying that _Flynn_ was the one who had been suffering?

“How much did he tell you?” Stripping his voice of emotion left it colder than Yuri had anticipated.

“Nothing. Only that it was his fault that you left.”

“It was his fault I _had_ to leave.”

A small correction, but a crucial one. Yuri wondered if Estelle knew how corrupted Terca Lumireis' existence really was. He'd have fought to do something about it...if only he could have trusted Flynn to fight by his side. God, he would have taken on the whole damn world with Flynn back then. Back before things had changed, anyway. Back before Flynn had chosen to defend the wrong side.

Estelle stood silently by. Whether she was unsure what to say, or if she could sense that it wouldn't make a difference didn't matter. Yuri heard the whisper of silk as she fiddled anxiously with the wrapping from his gift. The sword gleamed in Yuri's hands, and he ached to test it out for real. He was certain that it would prove an exceptional weapon against anything he faced. That inscription, though.... Would he be able to keep his focus on a fight while something like that taunted him as it flashed past? Before, he never would have thought _anything_ could distract him from a good fight. Could he not even trust _himself_ anymore?

Eventually, the weighted silence got to be too much. Carefully, Estelle folded the square of silk and set it down on her desk. She reached out and laid a hand on Yuri's arm. When he looked at her, Yuri saw the same, familiar compassion in her eyes. She was still the sweet, empathetic girl who hated to see her friends at odds.

“You should talk to Flynn,” she said quietly.

Yuri nodded. It was on his to-do list, right between 'punch Flynn in the face' and 'get the hell out of Terca Lumireis.'

“I will. But first, I promised Judith a match.”

He tried to smile for her, and felt like he'd summoned up some of his usual energy out of the gloom their talk had mired them in. It helped that he'd always loved a good fight, and something about Judith told him that she could give him a run for his money. Glancing at the sword in his hand, he knew that he couldn't fight with it. Much as he wanted to be able to fully appreciate her gift, he didn't have it in him at the moment to even try.

“I'll need to borrow a sword.”

He couldn't bring himself to meet Estelle's eyes as he said it, and he slid the blade home into its sheath, hiding the message. That really was the worst part of the whole mess—that even after everything, after their fights, after Flynn's betrayal when they'd learned the truth, after the four years of separation...

...even after all that, Yuri was painfully aware that he was still in love with Flynn.


	5. Chapter 5

Judith was an absolute terror with her spear. Five minutes into their match and Yuri was hopelessly stuck on the defensive. He was breathing harshly, and could feel heaviness already settling into his arms and legs when normally those few minutes should merely have served as a warm up. Much as he hated the fact that he was too weak to keep up, he still admired Judith's skill. At his best, she would be a blast to spar with. In his current state, he was only grateful that she wasn't going easy on him.

He dodged a slash and feinted to one side, trying to dart in past her guard when she moved to parry. She was fast, though, amazingly fast, and would have sent him flying with a kick if he hadn't seen it coming. It was one of his own favorite tricks, something that Flynn had never quite gotten the hang of, but Yuri wasn't used to defending against it, and only barely got out of the way in time. The tip of Judith's spear cut through the air in front of him, close enough that it ripped the front of his too-large shirt. Yuri leapt backward, sword up to guard, and paused a moment, panting, as he and Judith watched each other. She was barely breathing hard, wearing a calm smile as she waited for him to make the next move.

“You could have ended it,” Yuri said.

“Perhaps. But what would have been the fun in that? I thought you wanted a fight, not a warm up.”

He was simultaneously amused and irritated by her statement. She wasn't wrong, but she seemed to be laughing at him. Yuri gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip on the borrowed sword. Just because he was weak didn't mean he could be counted out. With a shout, he rushed forward. It was practically impossible for him to win, but he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

Judith's smile widened as she brought up her spear to block his attack. “That's better. I'd be hurt if you didn't give me everything you've got.”

“Same here.”

Digging in his heels, he shoved and _just_ managed to set her off balance enough to gain the advantage. His sword was a blur as he kept her on the defensive and, although it didn't last, he savored the small victory and pressed himself to keep the match going for as long as possible.

In the end, the weakness of his body betrayed him. Fighting off the shadows and breaking through the barrier had taken too much out of him. He was shaking by the end of the fight, maintaining his grip on his sword purely through determination. His hand was numb around the hilt, his pulse throbbed in his veins, his breathing had gone ragged, and his heart felt too large as it beat frantically inside his chest. Yuri knew that he'd pushed himself too far, but he hadn't been willing to give in. In a real fight, shadows didn't back down to let their enemies rest. The barrier wouldn't have broken if he'd stopped fighting to reach Flynn. And Flynn....

Yuri could hope that he would never have to pit himself against Flynn like he had four years ago, but those nightmares still haunted his sleep, and he couldn't entirely dismiss the fear that it would happen again. If he couldn't even face Judith with everything he had, he definitely wouldn't be any match for Flynn.

So, recognizing that he was being stubborn as a pig, Yuri fought until his knees gave out beneath him. Even then, he tried to rise, but his joints seemed to have all turned to jelly, and even using the sword as a prop wasn't enough. He knelt in the grass, gasping for breath and watching Judith who stood several steps away, studying him with an expression that ran a bit too close to amusement. Eventually, she came and sat down in front of him, setting the butt of her spear between her crossed legs and leaning the shaft against her shoulder.

“Good fight,” she said.

Yuri nodded and let go, falling back to lay on the ground. “Thanks.” He'd meant 'thanks for sparring with me,' not 'thanks for saying that even after kicking my ass,' but Judith apparently understood perfectly.

“My pleasure. Let me know any time you'd like a rematch.”

He raised a shaky arm and gave her a thumbs up. “Sounds great.” Repede came over and licked his face, and Yuri let his hand fall heavily onto the dog's neck. His overworked muscles protested even the tiny movements required to give Repede a scratch.

“Don't tell Estelle,” he said, “but I might have overdone it today.”

“I heard that.” Estelle appeared in his field of vision, leaning over him with worry clear on her face. “Are you all right?”

He grinned lopsidedly for her. “Better than I was. Judy gave me a good workout. Give me a few minutes, and I'll even be able to stand up and walk back inside.”

“Do you need some help?” She held out a hand to him, and Yuri thought suddenly of Flynn, always there at the end of their sparring matches with a bright smile and an open hand, asking if Yuri was all right. He had to force a smile past the memories.

“Nah. Just a couple minutes to catch my breath.” When she hesitated, he waved off her concern and relaxed back in the soft grass. “Go on back inside. I'm fine. I promise.”

She hesitated, and from beneath half-lidded eyes, Yuri saw her glance at Judy. Whatever passed between them gave her the reassurance she needed, and she turned to go back to the manor, one less witness to see Yuri try to pick himself back up once his body was finished rebelling against him.

In the silence that followed, Yuri closed his eyes and felt the breeze cooling his sweat-soaked skin, concentrated on the way his rushed heartbeat was slowly calming, found that he could take measured breaths rather than gulping so desperately for air. His cuts and bruises were starting to clamor for attention. His body felt heavy. The frustrations and anger of the morning had been drained away, forced into his attacks, sweated out of him during the fight. He drew in a deep breath and sighed, very nearly content.

“So...I'm Judy now?” She sounded amused. Yuri didn't bother opening his eyes since he wouldn't be able to see her without moving his head.

“That all right with you?”

“Hmm.... I kind of like it.”

“Judy it is, then.” He considered for a moment before asking his next question, but she'd just sat down with him after laying him out in an intense sparring match, so as far as Yuri was concerned, they were friends. She could refuse to answer if she wanted, but.... “How do you like being Rita's partner?”

“It's been very...interesting. I'm glad I took her up on the offer.”

“Offer?” _That_ caught his attention enough that he made the effort to sit up and look at her. She regarded him with a placid smile.

“Rita and I had known each other for some time before she discussed becoming partners. Of course, she explained the entire situation to me beforehand. I gather we're a particularly unusual pair in that regard.”

“My guess would be one-of-a-kind,” Yuri said flatly. Rita had told her _everything_? And she had agreed? He shook his head, amazed at that level of trust. Once upon a time, he'd trusted Flynn just as much and now wished he hadn't.

No. No, that wasn't right. He wished that Flynn hadn't betrayed his trust. Having someone he trusted implicitly had been....

He missed it.

He missed the companionship and the friendly rivalry and just...being able to sleep through the night with the comfort of knowing that he wasn't alone.

Yuri clenched his fists around handfuls of grass. He'd lost so much that night.

_Lost, or thrown away?_ His treacherous thoughts asked. If he'd stopped a moment, if he'd just _listened_...!

Flynn shouldn't have done that to him. Flynn shouldn't _ever_ have done that—used his bond to 'put Yuri in his place.' Even now, the idea welled up bitter as bile in his throat.

Taking up his borrowed sword, Yuri forced himself to his feet, feeling weak and watery within his skin. Judy rose a moment after him, watching but saying nothing, offering no assistance. He nodded to her, acknowledgment and appreciation rolled into the gesture.

“I think I'm going to go stretch out and unwind. Thanks again.”

He offered a hand and she shook. They walked back to the manor together without speaking, separating only when Yuri went straight into the conservatory and Judy headed into the manor itself. It seemed likely that Estelle would have tea and snacks waiting to help restore him, but Yuri found that he had no appetite, and was in no mood for company. His anger was a guttering spark, but the emotions left in its place were worse.

Exhausted, Yuri climbed the brilliantly white stone stairs leading to the platform that overlooked the conservatory. The green leaves and fragrant flowers of the trees in their planters around the stair surrounded him, and more flowers awaited him at the top in smaller pots. There were two chairs at the top of the platform, neither of which looked particularly comfortable. He stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt and wadded it up, then laid down on the sun-warmed stone and tucked it beneath his head for a pillow.

It was bright so close to the top of the conservatory, and stiflingly hot. Yuri closed his eyes, too tired to fight off thoughts of Flynn and the past, and, luckily, too tired to stay awake much longer. Freshly worn out, sleep claimed him easily.

* * *

A sense of wrongness drew Yuri out of the depths of sleep. Groggily, he sat up, unable for a moment to recognize what had woken him. The moment he realized that he was sensing the presence of a shadow, he was on his feet, sword in hand, and chiding himself for being too slow. Dashing for the steps, he was brought up short when he caught a glimpse of Judy through the conservatory windows.

Down below, in the same yard where they had sparred earlier in the day, Judy was now wielding her spear against a monstrous, gargoyle-shaped shadow. A flash of blue fur was Repede, harrying it from the side and opening long gashes in its translucent flesh. It only took a second for Yuri to see that the fight was drawing to a close, but the shadow realized that it was losing, as well. As Yuri watched, it faded, slipping through into another world to escape. That was when Rita stepped in. She swiped a hand through the air before her, calling up her magic. Her hands ran unhesitatingly over glowing runes written in the air, and a gate opened up in the fabric of the worlds. Judy leapt through without a second thought, and Repede followed. Rita waited, obviously impatient even from a distance, but they weren't gone long. Within a minute, Judy backed through the portal. In one hand, she held the struggling shadow by the core deep inside its body. Repede came through, teeth and claws sunk deep into the shadow's barbed tail to keep it from swiping at Judy. As soon as Rita closed the gate, Judy squeezed, crushing the shadow's core.

Yuri watched it dissolve, feeling the hoarded magic flow out into the world. It lapped against his skin, insubstantial as a cloud of mist, and as little help to Terca Lumireis as pouring a cup of water into a nearly empty swimming pool. Breaking through the barrier was all well and good, but every shadow caught would have to be dragged back through a gate and destroyed in Terca Lumireis—and even that wasn't guaranteed to fix things. The Council of Elders was finally getting a taste of its own medicine, having to see firsthand how worlds died when stripped of their magic. If it wasn't for the innocent people caught up in the middle, Yuri wouldn't have thought twice about leaving them to their fate. It would have been fitting for them to be destroyed by their own abuses of power.

Flynn's voice came back to him, heavy with emotions unshared and things left unsaid.

_"The shadows killed Niren."_

Blood on the elders hands. Blood on his own, too, Yuri realized. The barrier had been his fault somehow. Something in his rage and fear had given it form and power and left Terca Lumireis vulnerable. He had no room to sit around feeling self-righteous, no time to waste wishing for what he had lost. There were questions that needed answers, and a crumbling world to fight for, whether he liked it or not. He owed it to his friends and to Niren's memory. If it was even partially his fault that things had gotten so bad, then he had a responsibility to help fix it.

Yuri gathered up his borrowed shirt, grimacing as he caught a whiff of it and of himself. Unless another shadow showed up in the next couple of minutes, the _first_ thing he was going to do was grab a shower. After that, he could catch up on what he'd missed during the last four years, and see what he could do to help fix a broken world.

On his way down the stairs, he met Estelle coming up, and couldn't help but notice how she hadn't come to get him until the shadow had already been dealt with.

“That happen often?” He asked as he fell into step behind her.

“They like places with more people around,” she said hesitantly, “so we don't get quite as many out here.”

_Not as much to feed on_ was the unspoken explanation.

“In places where more people live, there are attacks several times a day.”

“What about here? Have I slept through any others?”

“You needed to rest.”

Yuri frowned, though he didn't think it would do him much good to argue. Worse was the idea that he'd been so drained that he hadn't even been aware enough that he could have defended himself. That was dangerous. The presence of shadows so close by should have woken him up. It was a bad sign that he'd slept through more than one attack.

“Is there another set of clothes around in my size? I need to get cleaned up, and after that I think we should all talk.”

“About...you returning to your world?”

It warmed him to realize that she didn't want him to leave. “About the situation here,” he corrected. “About what I've missed and what needs to be done.”

They were almost to the door leading into the manor when Yuri stopped suddenly. There was another thing that he needed to do. When Estelle paused and looked back at him, Yuri met her eyes and hoped his voice wouldn't betray the realization that had just left him shaken.

“I need to visit Niren's grave,” he said quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we get a little bit more info about the fight Yuri and Flynn had. plus, my favorite--MUTUAL PINING!! =D

Flynn spent his morning organizing shadow hunters. The extent of his magic burn had gotten him banned from leaving the Guardian World to fight shadows on his own. It would be another day or two before the effects would heal enough to make it safe to use some of his more powerful offensive magics, and Alexei considered him too important a leader to risk. In the meantime, he had been assigned to interview partners, assess their familiarity with the procedure for visiting other worlds, and then either assign them to training or send them out after shadows. After so long fighting all their battles at home, Alexei wanted to be sure there would be no major mistakes with so many people suddenly leaving the Guardian World.

His task had left him dissatisfied, but Flynn could see the logic in it. He lacked a partner, and couldn't even summon the entities he'd made contracts with. The shadows had become too strong to be fought alone, and Alexei had wanted the net cast as widely as possible, which meant that pairs weren't doubling up to cover the areas assigned to them. Flynn had both experience hunting shadows, and reliable judgment about the shamans under his command. He accepted the role, all the while telling himself that he only had to bear the inaction for a few days. Magic burn tended to heal quickly, as it was mostly a case of the body needing to replenish its reserves. Still, accustomed to being in the middle of the action, Flynn would much rather have been out hunting shadows himself instead of coordinating the fight against them.

By early afternoon, the frustration was really beginning to grate. Despite the fact that he wasn't particularly hungry, he took a break for lunch, just to get away from the stream of reminders that he hadn't felt quite whole since Yuri had left.

Not that it was easy to forget now that he was back in the Guardian World.

Rather than ring for a servant, Flynn walked down to the palace kitchens to get his lunch, then hurried back to his small room. The quiet was both a blessing and a curse. Temporarily free of his duty sending others out to do a job he ought to be doing, he instead found himself with time to think, and a vivid memory of Yuri's face in the dream and the immediacy of his left hook. With a sigh, Flynn leaned back against his door. Yuri hadn't hesitated in the slightest. He was definitely still angry.

“He has to know I didn't mean it,” Flynn mumbled, rubbing his face. Setting his food down on his small desk, he took off his sword belt and leaned the sheathed blade against the wall. “At the very least, he has to know I wouldn't do it again. Not without lives being at stake,” he amended, thinking back to the way Yuri had practically dared him to use their bond to force him to return.

_But I had the chance and I didn't take it,_ Flynn thought. _Does that make me a better person for not betraying him a second time, or a terrible person for gambling everything on Yuri's strength?_

He didn't have an answer to that question, and realized belatedly that even if he swore to Yuri never to use him that way again, it would be a moot point. The cuff was gone, and with it, the magic that had bound them as partners. It wasn't simply that Flynn wouldn't impose his will on Yuri ever again—he _couldn't_.

“No way to prove it,” he said bleakly. He would have to hope that Yuri could trust him, but there was little enough chance of that when he'd already shattered Yuri's trust once before.

He sighed heavily as he sat down, and forced himself to take a bite of the sandwich on his plate. Everything was all too complicated. Things had been simpler, before. Back then, he and Yuri had been a team—a fractious team, sometimes, but a team nonetheless. They'd had a task—hunt down rogue shadows and bring them back to the Guardian World in order to protect the other worlds those shadows preyed upon. They'd been _good_ at it. Everything had been straightforward. They'd been happy, mostly.

Then Yuri had found out the Guardian World's ugly little secret, and Flynn hadn't wanted to believe it. They'd been arguing so often at that point over so many stupid things, that it didn't take much to set off a full-blown fight, and with the integrity of his entire world at stake, Flynn hadn't exactly had a cool head about it. He'd been so furious that Yuri could even _suggest_ that the Guardian World had actually been stealing magic for thousands of years. And Yuri just wouldn't shut up, wouldn't let Flynn think...! He'd just kept shouting, making all sorts of accusations—about the Council, the Guardian World—about _Flynn_! And when Yuri had punched him, Flynn had snapped. He'd barked out orders, scarcely aware of what he was doing, but with enough force behind the words to keep Yuri from disobeying. The next few seconds were a jumble in his memory, hazed by his anger at the time, and the years that had passed since. He remembered shouting at Yuri to shut up and sit down. He'd been too incensed at the time to care why Yuri had obeyed.

Flynn had denied all the accusations Yuri had laid before him. He'd refused to believe in them. Staring down at the friend who was trying to tear his world apart, seeing the utter fury in Yuri's eyes, had only made him grasp for more excuses, more reasons that nothing he'd said could be true. When he'd run out of things to say, he'd ordered Yuri out of his sight, heartsick and disgusted over Yuri's wild accusations, over the fear that they might be true, and even over what he'd felt at the time that Yuri had forced Flynn to do to him. He hadn't even noticed the ache in his jaw from where Yuri's punch had landed until he was alone.

For weeks after that night, Flynn had tried to rationalize what he'd done. Even after learning that they were locked in the Guardian World interminably while Yuri was back in his own world. Even after Alexei confirmed what Yuri had told him, Flynn still insisted to himself that there was no way he could have known, that Yuri should have kept his cool, rather than attacking Flynn with the discovery. It was a long time before Flynn admitted to himself that in his heart he knew there was no excuse for using his power over Yuri to compel him to obey. By that time, of course, it was far too late.

Shaking his head, he picked at his lunch as he tried to keep the past from dominating his thoughts. Although he hadn't forgotten about Yuri for even a day, it had been years since he had thought so much about their fight. If only he knew what to say to him. There _had_ to be a way to make things right again between them!

His eyes wandered to the basin on his dressing table. Surely, Yuri would be awake by now. It wouldn't take but a moment or two to look in on him once more, and this time, Flynn wasn't in any danger of nodding off and disrupting the spell. Yuri wouldn't need to know. Flynn could reassure himself without forcing Yuri to accept his presence. As far as his mistake the previous night went, Yuri probably hadn't even realized it was anything more than a dream.

He shouldn't. He _really_ shouldn't, and he knew it. Flynn took a hasty bite of his lunch. Yuri was justifiably—if stubbornly—still angry with him. He didn't need Flynn looking over his shoulder. When Yuri was ready to meet to discuss what had happened between them, or to settle the matter with swords the way they'd resolved so many far less important fights long ago, then Estellise would send a message to Flynn. Until then, he had only to give Yuri his space, to let him adjust to being back in the Guardian World, and to decide what he wanted to do next. That would be the smart, respectful thing to do.

He lifted his sandwich, but closed his mouth before taking another bite.

He'd been wrong to impose his will on Yuri, and now it seemed he'd been wrong when he'd assumed that Yuri would be fine coping with that on his own. What if he was wrong about Yuri being all right with the situation now? If he could just _see_ Yuri, Flynn was certain he'd have a better idea of what to do. No matter how Yuri tried to hide the way he felt from other people, Flynn had always been able to see through him.

Pushing his lunch aside, he stared at the basin. Casting the spell would be so easy. It wouldn't even use up enough magic to delay his healing. He could simply check in, assure himself that Yuri was doing well, and then he could stop fretting and get back to doing his job. Flynn clenched his fists as the temptation gnawed at him. He'd gone four years without so much as a glimpse of Yuri. Why should it be so hard to resist now?

He remembered the determination in Yuri's face as he'd shouted across the barrier between worlds. There had been no fear showing when he'd yelled at Flynn to order him through, despite the fact that years old dread had been roiling sickeningly within the clash of magics. Yuri had offered up everything in order to come back. He'd fought and pushed himself and done the impossible. Flynn remembered the feel of Yuri's palm pressing against his glove as their fingers had twined together while the barrier blew apart around them. He remembered soft hair against his cheek, and his own icy fear for Yuri's life. Staring at his fists, he uncurled his fingers and studied his palms, as if he could see the imprint that Yuri had left on his life. More than anything, he wanted to be able to reach out to his friend again, to be able to clap him on the shoulder, or take his hand and run, laughing and carefree, across the green valleys of the Guardian World. He wanted to wrap Yuri up in his embrace and make everything okay again between them. He wanted to feel Yuri's weight pressed against him, wanted to bask in his warmth, wanted....

Flynn pressed his palms against the desktop. He wanted more than Yuri would ever be willing, or perhaps even able to give him.

He wondered when, exactly, he had lost his heart to Yuri.

The basin sat waiting for him. Flynn gave in and brought it to the desk. He half filled it with water from the ewer and waited for the surface to grow still. The spell came to him far easier this time, and he found himself looking down at Yuri, who was following Estellise along a narrow path. Bright grass grew to either side, and spindly trees added shadows in the waning sunlight. They reached the top of a small rise marked by a mossy boulder, and Flynn suddenly recognized exactly where they were and what Yuri would find at the top of the next hill.

Indecision gripped him. This wasn't something that he'd wanted Yuri to face so soon, but there was little he could do to stop it. Why had Estellise seen fit to take him? Even if she was by his side, bringing Yuri to Ehmead Hill was—

In the image on the water's surface, Yuri paused and held up a hand to stop Estellise. They spoke briefly, and when Yuri turned away and started walking again, Estellise stayed put. The image followed Yuri as he went on alone.

Flynn hesitated only a second longer, then canceled out the spell and grabbed up his sword. He was buckling it on even as he left his room behind and hurried down the hall. Even knowing that Ehmead Hill sat between the palace and Estellise's residence, he was all too aware of how long it would take him to get there and of what Yuri would find.

He hadn't wanted Yuri to face Niren's death so soon. Now, Flynn only wished that his friend hadn't insisted on facing it alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually one of my favorite chapters ^^;

Yuri wouldn't have been surprised if Estelle had followed him. She'd made it clear that she didn't like the idea of him going on alone, but he'd been insistent, and she had finally agreed to go back to the manor. Rounding a bend in the trail, he snuck a glance back to see her still standing where he'd left her, watching him. Maybe she wouldn't follow after all. Maybe she would only wait, wasting her time. He shouldn't have asked Estelle. He should have asked Rita. She would have given him directions and let him handle this his own way.

The sun had touched the horizon and was now sinking fast, as if the earth was absorbing it. Except it wasn't exactly the earth, Yuri reminded himself. It was a floating island. He remembered exploring with Flynn, finding promontories and some of the tiniest breakaway islands of Terca Lumireis and watching the sunset from those places, seeing the sky saturated with rich, warm pinks and oranges as the light of the sun streamed up from below them, broken by thick shafts of shadow where the rocky islands floated on a lake of golden light.

The island was far too vast for that breathtaking sight to be visible so near the capital city, however, and night was falling in much the same way that it did back on Earth. Even so, despite the shadows growing deeper and the sky overhead darkening,Yuri felt no urge to hurry his steps. He kept his thoughts away from what lay ahead, focusing instead on his surroundings: on the grass and trees that looked so similar to those on Earth, yet weren't the same, and on the bird calls that were just a little too sweet or mournful or eerie. There was something in the air aside from the differing feel of the world's magic, a scent on the breeze that was familiar and nostalgic. Pausing, Yuri took a deep breath, trying to pinpoint the difference. He gave up when faced with the quiet realization that he was only delaying the inevitable.

Even still, his feet were heavy, and each step was measured. He knew he ought to be thinking of what he should say, but Flynn's words still felt unreal. There was still a tiny part of his mind that whispered to him how there must have been some mistake, that Niren couldn't be....

A few more minutes down the empty trail, and he came to a point where it hooked around a copse of trees. The wind picked up, rustling leaves and drowning out the trilling cries of the night birds singing welcome to the first early stars. Yuri shivered, wishing Flynn had sent him something a bit thicker to wear. After soaking up the warmth of the conservatory for most of the day, even the thin evening breeze felt too cool. Rounding the bend, Yuri caught sight of a small hillock capped by a stone untouched by moss. He shivered again, this time from a chill that had raced down his spine. It left him frozen in his tracks, unaware of the passing of time as he stared at the spot Estelle had described to him. Eventually, he forced himself to take one step, then another. He regained his measured pace from earlier, but his stomach was knotted with emotion. He blanked his mind, instinctively recoiling from the moment when he would have no other choice but to accept Niren's death.

The grass was thick and dark green, but it whispered dryly against his boots as he left the path and started up the small rise. Here and there, flowers dotted the grass like confetti, and he could hear the chuckle of a stream nearby. Gaining the top of the hill, he passed the stone without looking too closely at it, and paused to take in the view. The hill sloped gently away before him, spanning several yards before cutting sharply off. Over the edge of the cliff, he could see patchworks of tilled fields and orchards far below. The stream he had heard rushed right up to the edge and leapt over in a thin stream of sliver. Yuri loped to where it fell and peered down. It looked like little more than a pearlescent mist where it splashed into a small pool far below. For a while, he stood still and took in the view, breathing the sweet night air and watching stars fade into view. Eventually, something within him—restlessness, duty, guilt—made him turn back to face the stone he had come out to see.

It was a simple marker: a smooth oblong of dark gray stone on a plot of grass that looked no different from any other. A few fallen leaves had gathered at its base, and as Yuri knelt to brush them away, he saw a glint in the grass. He didn't have to touch a thing to realize it was Niren's pipe.

“If I'd known this would be here, I'd have brought you some tobacco for it,” he murmured, knocking away the leaves that had covered the bowl of the pipe. “I could have at least offered you that much,” he went on, suddenly feeling guilty that he hadn't brought anything to leave at the grave.

How long ago had it happened? Flynn hadn't said, and Yuri hadn't asked Estelle any questions. Long enough for the grass to cover any sign of disturbed earth. Long enough for the gravestone and the pipe to begin accumulating a coating of dirt.

He returned to the stream, realized far too late that he had no handkerchief or bit of cloth, and stripped off his tunic to dunk it into the water. Wringing it out, he walked back to the grave and picked up the pipe to carefully scrub it clean. The stone itself was next, and although Yuri questioned his actions all the while, he carefully sponged off the stone, taking extra care on the letters carved across its surface. When he finished with that, he picked some of the tiny flowers out of the grass, although they were so small that the slightest breeze threatened to scatter the posy when he set it down next to the pipe. Mutely, he stared down at the small, horribly inadequate offering, then sat back on his heels and read by bright moonlight the name carved on the gravestone.

Niren Fedrock.

“Hey.” His voice was steady. Encouraged, he went on. “Been a while. I came back. Flynn told me what's been going on. Four years of nothing, then all of a sudden I see his ghost on my way home from work.” He shook his head. “Scared the hell out of me.”

Yuri let the sound of wind and water surround him once more. Memories long buried were surfacing. Niren had almost been like a father to him after Flynn had pulled him into Terca Lumireis. It was Niren who had taught him how to use a sword, and Niren who had helped with his studies when Flynn had been too impatient to deal with Yuri's lack of understanding. Niren had taught him about Terca Lumireis, about the magic of the shamans. He'd been there to listen and to give advice. He'd treated Yuri with respect.

He had been the one to tell Yuri the truth about the shadows and their connection to the Throne of Lumireis.

There was something Yuri needed to say. The words roiled within him, waiting for release. Taking a deep breath, he continued clumsily on.

“Flynn told me about...about you. Asked me to come back. Thought I could help. Guess I did. I.... We.... When he tried to open a gate....”

Frustration turned his sigh into a growl as he raked a hand through his hair in agitation.

“It was my fault!” Clenching his hands into fists and pressing them against his thighs, he bowed his head. “I never found out whose spell I used to get home, but it was my fault. The barrier...that was me. I made.... It wasn't just the wish. I was willing to give up _everything_ if only Flynn couldn't ever reach me again. I didn't.... I didn't know.... I didn't mean to....”

Heat stung his eyes, and suddenly tears were blurring his vision. Yuri fought them back, nails clenched so hard into his palms that he could feel them cutting the skin.

“I'm sorry! It was my fault. But I came back. Flynn didn't even have to make me. I came back. I'll fix it. I won't let it be too late for anyone else.”

He was apologizing again when he heard the rhythmic drumming of hooves striking the ground at a gallop. Scrubbing furiously at his face, Yuri pulled himself to his feet and retreated toward the cliff, in no mood to face anyone at the moment. Unfortunately, the sound didn't veer off and fade away along the path he'd left behind. The horse came straight up the hill, and Yuri glanced back as it stopped far too nearby for his liking. The bitterness of seeing Flynn staring down at him nearly caused a fresh bout of tears to spill down his cheeks. Yuri turned his face deliberately away.

“Come to send me home?” he croaked. The sound of his voice was another humiliating giveaway.

Waiting for some snide comment or accusation, Yuri heard only the jingle of the horse's tack, and the sound of Flynn hurriedly dismounting. The next thing he knew, Flynn barreled into him, arms sweeping up to crush him in a hug. Flynn was warm, so warm, against his bare skin.

“I'm so sorry, Yuri.” The way he spoke made it sound more plea than apology. “It was all my fault. I didn't want to lose you.”

His initial shock passed, and Yuri shoved Flynn away hard. “You what?” He stepped backward, hardly knowing what he was doing as he held Flynn's gaze. “You didn't want to _lose me_? So you turned me into a puppet?”

“No!”

“Forced me to sit down and shut up and _behave_ so I'd be worth hanging on to?”

“ _No_! Yuri—!”

“You _betrayed_ me, Flynn!”

“Watch where you're going!”

Flynn had halted where he stood, arms stretched out imploringly. Glancing back, Yuri saw that he had come to within a couple steps of the edge.

“Please, Yuri. I won't touch you again. Just...come back this way.”

Yuri laughed bitterly and met Flynn's eyes. “What, worried I'm going to fling myself over the edge? I'm pissed off, not suicidal.” He forced himself to calm down, and strode past Flynn to the side of the creek. Kneeling, he splashed water onto his face, trying to wash away the traces of his grief and the humiliated heat that had risen in his cheeks from being caught. “What are you doing here?”

“I...caught wind that Estellise was bringing you here. I thought.... I didn't want you to come alone.”

Looking back over his shoulder, Yuri felt rage simmering beneath his skin. He accepted it gratefully, glad to feel anything aside from the guilt that had risen as he'd knelt before the grave. “ _Now_ you care about that? Seems to me I've been alone for a long time.”

“It was a _mistake_ , Yuri. Something that you ought to understand well enough.”

Getting to his feet, he stomped back toward the road. “Sure. Here we go. It wouldn't be the same without a lecture from Mister Perfect.”

“I didn't come here to lecture you! I just wanted to be sure you were all right.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Damn it, Yuri, would you just—!”

Instinctively, Yuri whirled. To his surprise, however, Flynn had already checked the impulse to reach out and grab him. Watching him lower his hand, seeing the turmoil writ clear on his face, Yuri hesitated. The anger within him was a shifting, formless thing with too many targets. He reminded himself that there were things more worth fighting than Flynn.

“I want to help get rid of the shadows.”

His words caught Flynn off guard, but only for a moment, and Yuri thought he saw something very much like relief flit across his features.

“Of course. We'll have to discuss how best—”

“And I want the Throne destroyed as soon as it's found.”

As easy as that, what might have been a truce between them was shaken. Flynn's brows drew together, and a spark of anger danced in his eyes.

“We can't destroy it out of hand, Yuri. We're going to need the Throne's magic just to hold our world together. As soon as possible, we'll find a better way, one that doesn't involve us living off of other worlds like parasites. Alexei's already promised—”

“And why should I trust him? Why should I trust _any_ of you?”

Flynn stared at him, then sighed. “Who you trust is up to you. All I ask is that you give us time. This isn't about me or about the wrongs done by the shamans and the council. This is about all the innocent people who will suffer if we aren't careful about how we change things. The Throne holds the entirety of the Guardian World hostage. Our home is dying without it.”

“All the more reason to get rid of it quick,” Yuri muttered, but Flynn wasn't wrong about it being innocent people who would suffer first and worst.

He grabbed up his wet, dirt-smeared shirt and started back toward the path feeling unsettled and itching for a fight. After a moment, Flynn followed quietly along, leading his horse rather than mounting back up. He'd interrupted Yuri's mourning, but even if he hadn't sensed the awkwardness lingering there, he wasn't so thick-headed to think that anything had been fixed between the two of them.

_I didn't want to lose you._

Yeah, right.

Shadows deepened as the last of the sun's light was swallowed up. Luckily, the path was well-maintained, and the thick grass and trees to either side made it impossible to wander off by mistake. Yuri trudged along, scuffing his feet and kicking at pebbles that rolled beneath his sneakers. Behind him, he heard the steady crunch of Flynn's step on the packed dirt, and the clop of his horse's hooves. Estelle was nowhere in sight, probably sent home when Flynn had come charging up to stick his nose in where it didn't belong. Glad as Yuri was that she wasn't there to see the two of them together, he still felt a flare of indignation at the thought that Flynn had presumed to take her place.

“Are you going to follow me all the way back to the house?” Yuri snapped.

“It's the only road.”

Flynn's answer was spoken so calmly that there was nothing for Yuri's frustration to latch on to. They lapsed back into silence for a few minutes. It was Flynn who spoke first, as a cool breeze blew past and left Yuri shivering.

“I can loan you my cape if you're cold. We're still—”

“I'm fine.”

“...still a little ways from the manor.” Flynn sighed. “I've never understood what you get out of being stubborn when it's clearly to your benefit to just let someone help you.”

“Fuck off.”

He wasn't prepared this time for Flynn to grab his wrist, and it brought him up short. Yuri found himself yanked around to face the anger simmering just beneath the surface on his old friend's face.

“Listen to me. If you want to help fight against the shadows, I'll allow it, but only if you can work with me.” He rode right over the beginnings of a protest. “You have no magic, and no partner. Either we work together so I can watch your back, or I'll have you sent home. This isn't up for discussion. I didn't bring you back so that you could get killed fighting a battle that isn't yours.”

“Like hell it isn't!” His fist was clenched and trembling in Flynn's grip, but he couldn't break free. “You were there, Flynn. You felt that barrier! That was _my_ fault!”

Something cooled in Flynn's expression as he studied Yuri in the faint light. “You don't honestly think that you....” His grip relaxed just enough that Yuri could yank free.

“Think I could what?” he demanded. He held his arms stiffly to his sides to avoid the urge to chafe the wrist Flynn had held.

“Nothing.” Flynn shook his head and walked past him. “Forget about it.”

“Great way to build trust,” Yuri muttered. “If it's going to be like this, then maybe you ought to send me back after all. Far be it for the mighty Flynn Scifo to be on equal terms with his old _partner_.” The word dripped acid as he spat it between them.

Ahead of him, Flynn paused. His shoulders drooped. “I'd wanted.... I had hoped...that we could fix what's broken between us.”

Yuri only barely caught the words, but the sadness in them caused an answering pain in his chest. He turned his face aside, unable to look at Flynn for all his own hopes that seemed so far out of reach.

“If this is the best you've got to offer, then you may as well forget it,” he muttered.

The words hurt more than they should have, and Yuri was grateful that Flynn wasn't looking at him. He barely caught the movement as Flynn flinched, then nodded and continued on. Yuri followed, and this time the silence remained unbroken.

When they arrived back at the manor, Estelle was waiting for them outside. She took one look at them and, even in the wan light from the lamps at the door, read enough in their expressions to cause her concern. Still, she invited Flynn to stay for dinner, casting worried glances at Yuri as she spoke. She was clearly anxious for them to find a way to mend the rift between them, and Yuri found himself freshly frustrated over the whole mess. Suddenly, he was exhausted, too worn out to even think about how awkward dinner would be. To his surprise, Flynn looked at him rather than Estelle as he answered.

“Has Yuri been brought up to speed on everything that's been going on?”

“No.” Estelle shook her head. “Between one thing and another, we haven't had much chance to talk about it.”

That seemed to decide Flynn. He nodded and smiled tiredly for her.

“Let me see to my horse, then I'll join you inside.” Again, he glanced at Yuri even as he spoke to Estelle. “If he's going to be fighting shadows, there's a lot he needs to know.”


End file.
